


Hope of the Broken/The Walking Gays (Zombie Apocalypse AU)

by Ember3ye



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst I guess, Homophobic Language, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, also flufffluff lots of fluff, idk it's the type where they're assholes except when around each other, kinda based on the walking dead game where they can walk through hordes n stuff, they obviously fight walkers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:57:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4054132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ember3ye/pseuds/Ember3ye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He may be alive and have food, but he's also a dick. Yamato would almost prefer the company of zombies. Almost. ((ARTWORK BY HAISHE))<br/>*NOW A TWO-PART THINGY*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope of the Broken/The Walking Gays (Zombie Apocalypse AU)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lelle/gifts).



**HAISHE'S ARTWORK NOT MINE OR ANYONE'S ELSES. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST.**

 

Hope of the Broken

Yamato hated this. He hated having to slather himself in zombie guts to move around freely through the growling, hissing, and staggering horde. Grunting, he unhappily shouldered aside one walker carefully, aiming for any small, indiscreet spaces he could see that may lead him out of the gross troop. This mass of undead was unusually large, which worried him somewhat. He'd normally have found a way through by now-honestly, he was sick to death of the irritating groans and grating noise of dragging limbs. He suppressed his sighs and increasing impatience, forcing himself to walk at the same lurching pace as the once-people around him. Scanning around, gripping his short dagger with unease, Yamato desperately searched for an exit among the bobbing heads without drawing too much attention to himself. His gaze landed on some amazingly filthy, bloody, knotted, ragged...mop of what was supposedly once silver hair, and he had to raise an eyebrow at how eye-catching it was-in a negative way.

"Their hair must've been incredible when they were alive," Yamato mused silently, drifting closer to the shifting strands, curious. "Wait...is that...?"

Increasing his pace as much as he dared, attempting to get a better view of the figure through the dead sleepwalkers, Yamato examined the form closely. What first struck him was the large wad of material masking everything from the lower bridge of the man's nose downwards.

"What walker wears a mask?" Yamato thought quizzically, straining to see over the hobbling undead.

His mouth slid open a tad, taking in the pale-but not quite zombie clammy-skin, dirtily riddled with any number of white scars (Yamato didn't have the times or focus to count them all), his also gut-smeared beaten leather jacket, and the vacant, one-eyed stare ahead that caused a single doubt to enter Yamato's mind.

"Is he actually alive or am I just being too optimistic?" Yamato cocked his head sideways a tad, pondering the possibility.

The man's head rotated towards him suddenly, a sharp grey gaze piercing Yamato, and he quickly realised he'd been stepping too fast-the ones closest to him were beginning to take note.

Immediately, he began to match his pace again, praying that his blunder would go unnoticed. If he was forced to use his gun every walker in the vicinity would be alerted and him and that other guy would definitely be dead. Fortunately, his luck decided to actually bow in his favour for once and , after a few sniffs, they lost interest and continued on their aimless way. Breathing a very tiny, very quiet sigh of relief, Yamato began to gradually inch his path to the stranger, eager to meet a fellow survivor. He hadn't come across anyone living in two years,well, who hadn't promptly died afterwards. The figure seemed to sidestep away from him every step he brought towards him, and eventually,after several minutes of cat-mouse-like chasing at a crawl, Yamato noticed the zombies becoming less dense, becoming more sparsely spread out.

Gradually the walkers faded away, yet still the man led Yamato onwards, never letting him get close. Afraid to call out loud, Yamato whisper-yelled, "Hey! Can I talk to you?"

The man-who had surprisingly acute hearing-spun around immediately,rapidly yanking out a machete and aggressively pointed it straight at Yamato's chest.Yamato flung up his hands above his head, not having a death wish-something about this guy told him he was not to be fucked with.

"What do you want from me?" was the harsh demand from underneath the mask, not muffled at all to Yamato's surprise.

"Isn't it normal to want to talk to the first living person I've seen in two years?" Yamato replied, eying the machete warily as the man approached.

"There's a reason I've survived this long," The rugged man stated, his stare flickering up and down Yamato, judging his worth.

"Same here," Yamato pointed out, noticing the tip of the machete was now centimetres away from his chest.

"Now that we've established that, can you stop pointing that thing at me now?"

"How do I know you won't produce a gun then proceed to murder and rob me?"

"Fair point," Yamato acknowledged, unwillingly recalling all the fucked up situations he'd seen-and the gun tucked into the back waistband of his pants. He inspected the dirt, blood, and gut-caked man once again, and came to a conclusion.

"To be honest though, you don't look like you've got shit worth stealing. But you look tough. Wanna partner up?"

Sighing, the man lowered his weapon, still glowering at Yamato suspiciously. He didn't withdraw completely, however, and spoke the next sentence with narrowed eyes.

"You're right about the first bit, but who are you?"

"Yamato," Yamato declared, offering his gory hand in a handshake.

"Yamato? No surname?"

"Just Yamato," He insisted, shrugging and turning his rough palms upwards sheepishly.

The man glanced at him curiously one more time before accepting his handshake with a firm grip, bits of zombie insides peeling off as they shook.

"Hatake. Kakashi Hatake."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Hatake."

Then Hatake cracked him over the head with the machete hilt, and all went black.

\---AN UNDETERMINED TIME LATER---

Yamato woke up stripped of possessions and with a blaring headache. He instantly fumbled for his weapons-finding none, he jerked upright and leapt onto the bare wooden floor from the plain bed. Scanning the empty room, he cursed himself-why did he, being a gullible idiot, trust the first survivor he saw? There was a door embedded in the wall, probably locked but Yamato strode over to it anyway, questioning silently as to why Kakashi kept him alive. One half of him was saying it must've been a misunderstanding, that he didn't come across peaceful enough. Then again, another part of him was urging Yamato to fight back if this "Hatake" fellow was hostile, which Yamato's own common sense immediately dismissed. Any unnecessary battling was exhaustive and pointless, making it easier to fall to the undead if you got injured.

Yamato shoved his shoulder against the door roughly-and the door suddenly obliged him exit, caving in instantly. He tumbled out into a larger room , fighting to keep upright and look around him at the same time. He halted unsteadily, observing the dirty shock of silver hair as it observed him from the corner, a deadly variation of items in his hands.

"Morning."

Yamato gaped at him, trying to figure what happened out and failing.

"Why'd you knock me out?!"

"You're not very mannerly, are you?" Kakashi muttered, running a grey block down the edge of his machete.

Yamato approached cautiously, very aware that Kakashi had a lot of weapons and he had jack shit. He was wondering whether to negotiate with this weirdo or simply make a dash for the door when he caught sight of his shit.

"Hey! That's mine!" Yamato exclaimed as Kakashi scooped up another blade.

"This?" Kakashi mused, circling it in his hands deliberately, flicking his thumb over the edge of the blade.

"It's not very sharp, is it?"

Yamato felt himself flush, stomping over to Kakashi and tugging it from his nonchalant grasp.

"It doesn't matter. It does its job."

"I was just sharpening it," Kakashi stated, a tinge of defensiveness in his voice as he plucked up a penknife and the block again.

"Yeah, well, ask me first and don't knock me out," Yamato huffed, testing the edge himself and unwillingly admitting to himself it was a little blunt.

"I couldn't let you see where this place was," Kakashi explained, shifting around the floor , looking less filthy and more untidy than yesterday-if it was yesterday that they'd waded through the horde, Yamato wasn't sure of the current time of day.

Taking a moment to inspect the structure around them, Yamato grudgingly admitted that Kakashi's residence seemed sturdy enough, with solid-looking boards nailed firmly against the windows. Only a small amount of light was let through, making it impossible to estimate the time of day. A small-ish, basic, one-storey house that was probably previously used for a single bachelor accommodation or something...

"Hey, what was this before?"

Kakashi barely glanced up from the scraping of metal as he answered absently, the matted mop of hair the only thing visible of his face.

"A friend's house."

Yamato figured he shouldn't ask any more of him-the strokes of the blade along the block had become more intense, daring him to question further. However, before he had even gotten the opportunity to debate whether he should actually care or not, Hatake finished his work and straightened up.

And pointed his machete at him again.

"Fight me."

"Whoa, what? Why?!" Yamato backed up rapidly until he remembered he had reclaimed his property and readied himself.

"Because I want to see if you're strong enough to be my partner," Kakashi replied, advancing further on a now-steady Yamato.

Yamato became irritated, his hackles rising at Kakashi's challenge. Yamato's dark eyes narrowed at his contempt, striding forward now, having decided to teach this asshole a lesson.

"I should be the one testing you," He declared, slashing out at Kakashi's neck in a split instant.

The other party's expression didn't alter a bit while he countered the blow neatly, spinning on his heel and ducked under Yamato's guard, slamming an elbow into his upper stomach. Gasping, Yamato retreated back quickly, one arm wrapped around his winded torso. He opened his mouth to speak and found he couldn't-Kakashi's strike had bypassed his abdominal muscles, deflating all the air out of his lungs.

"This guy knows what he's doing," Yamato realised, feeling his lungs fill up much more slowly than they should be.

"Weren't you going to test me?" Kakashi remarked off-handedly, his machete dancing from one hand to the other casually as he watched Yamato recover.

Yamato rose, now able to breathe deeply again and approaching again cautiously, past advice from a forgotten someone filtering into his mind.

Kakashi's eyes narrowed somewhat in suspicion as Yamato attacked again, realising there was something different about these feints and thrusts. Knowing Kakashi had a longer reach, Yamato planned to get in close so his weapon was slow and at a disadvantage-but he had to overcome the impressive hand-to-hand combat skills Hatake had kindly demonstrated.

He dove in again, adding feints and quick punches wherever he could manage, attempting to divide Kakashi's focus. Kakashi retaliated just as hard and fast, and Yamato wondered just where the hell this guy trained-every hit seemed to not affect him at all yet shake Yamato quite a bit.

Grunting, Yamato deflected the machete over his head, twisting it downwards and landing a satisfactory roundhouse kick on Kakashi's right side. The sharp inhale of breath told Yamato that it had caused him pain-hopefully-or he was simply not expecting Yamato to be able to hit him.

Springing back, Kakashi juggled the machete to his other hand-the left-and a slight smile crinkle appeared at his eyes, which made Yamato a little anxious.

"Not bad. I think I'll fight you properly now."

Yamato struggled not to let the surprise show on his face while he realised that the man had barely used his right arm or leg before. His ruthlessness-the side of him that allowed him to survive- began to rise- but he shoved it back-if he let that side of him loose on Hatake, there would be no-one left to partner up with.

If he was honest to himself, he soon regretted that decision.

-

"Fuck..." Yamato muttered to the trashy floor, watching the blood from his lips blend in with the sweat draining off his face. His arms shook, the dagger discarded beside his trembling palms pressed to the ground in weak frustration.

"You done yet?" Kakashi drawled, approaching again-not without wounds himself, but not nearly as severe-and peering down at Yamato.

"Why..." Yamato trailed off, smashing a fist into the floor.

"Yes?" Kakashi prompted, nudging his quaking arm with his boot-which really didn't help Yamato.

"Why did the first person I ran into have to be an asshole?!"

A foreign sound found its way to Yamato's burning ears and he glowered upwards, taking in his two crinkled, beaming eyes with wide-eyed surprise. Kakashi caught his taken-aback gaze and ceased chuckling, crouching and offering his palm to Yamato with sudden friendliness.

"Sorry, I don't trust anyone I've never fought with. But you've passed. Want to be partners?'

Yamato squinted at him, letting his arms crumple and his body hit the floor, steadily panting with exertion. Still staring suspiciously at Kakashi, Yamato arched his back and dragged his legs up underneath him, settling back onto his legs.

"Why should I trust you?"

"I'd have to kill you if you tried to leave," Kakashi shrugged, slouching backwards.

"And, honestly, I don't want to do that."

"I'm dying already," Yamato grumbled, inspecting his rapidly forming bruises.

"I can finish the job if you want," Kakashi offered, lifting that fucking machete again.

"No fucking thanks."

Yamato once again heard that sound, the sound he hadn't heard in two long years. Kakashi was laughing gently, plopping down in front of him, leaning back on his palms as his hair swayed in rhythm with his moving shoulders.

"Huh..."

Yamato blinked, and suddenly Kakashi didn't seem as filthy to him.

"Alright," Yamato agreed grudgingly.

"I'll be your partner."

Kakashi unfolded himself gracefully from the floor, raising him up and once again offering Yamato his gloved hand, topped with cracked fingernails.

"Then get up, partner."

"I don't need your hand," Yamato insisted, tugging himself up onto his feet with difficulty.

His battered body refused outright to co-operate, and he staggered forward involuntarily, only to be caught by Kakashi's hands gripping onto his shoulders.

"Are you sure?" Kakashi raised a grey eyebrow, drawing Yamato's attention to the most prominent scar-the three diagonal strikes down his left eyelid.

"Yeah..." Yamato said absently, wondering at the scar and had it been there before shit happened-although, to him, it looked less than two years old.

Still propping Yamato up, Kakashi freed a hand to prod his cheek. Not very gently.

"You in there?"

"Yeah, yeah," Yamato snapped his gaze away from the scar, taking a step back and leaving Kakashi's hand fall from his shoulders.

"I just need to rest a bit."

Kakashi's smirk was pointedly overlooked by Yamato, shuffling his way back into the room he came from. His stomach complained loudly, and Yamato glanced back at Kakashi.

"Any food?"

"I'll throw some into your room later," was the unconcerned answer.

"Asshole," Yamato muttered, and he slammed the door after him.

-TWO WEEKS LATER-

"We need another place."

Yamato glanced up from his assigned job-making a fire because Kakashi was too goddamn lazy-mildly bemused.

"What's wrong with this one?"

"I don't mean that," Kakashi replied, dumping a fuckload of sticks down beside Yamato.

"I mean another place to hide out. In case of a scenario where we can't use this one."

"Fair enough," Yamato acknowledged, knocking together two pieces of flint in an attempt to create a spark.

"Any luck?" Kakashi leaned over his shoulder, staring into the fireplace.

Yamato smelt smoke curling around them and it wasn't from the damp sticks in front of him. He spun around, seeing the end of a cigarette stick out from underneath Kakashi's mask.

"Are you mad?!"

"What?"

"Why the hell are you still smoking in the literal apocalypse?!"

"It's not like it'll shorten my lifespan," Kakashi shrugged, removing it with two fingers and breathing out the smoke deftly. It billowed out from underneath the cloth covering his face and right up into Yamato's.

"Also-" Yamato coughed, waving a hand in front of his face in annoyance.

"How did you light it?"

"With this," Kakashi reached into his front pocket, almost see-through with all the wear, and produced a lighter.

Yamato glanced down at the two pieces of flint that Kakashi gave him. He recalled the past half hour trying in vain to make a single spark. And then he tried to punch Kakashi in the face.

"That's very impolite," Kakashi drawled, dodging Yamato's irritated fist neatly.

"What's impolite is letting me sweat over making a spark with two damn stones when you had a lighter right there!" Yamato fumed, resisting the very strong urge to throw the said stones at point-blank range at Hatake's face.

"Oh," Kakashi mused, as if the notion was new to him.

"I never considered that. I just assumed I was teaching you a valuable life skill."

Yamato exhaled deeply, shutting his eyes and trying to get a hold of himself-although it was incredibly hard with all the suffocating fumes milling around.

"I'm going to bed," he stated, striding off to his room.

"Light the damn fire yourself."

"Oi, what about dinner?" Kakashi called after him.

When he got no answer, he simply shrugged again, taking another drag.

"I guess that means I get a full can of peaches."

-TWO MONTHS LATER-

"Kakashi? What are you doing up?"

Yamato rotated around on his post, squinting at the approaching figure in the darkness.

"I..I couldn't sleep," was the reply.

Yamato shrugged, swivelling round to peer out of the cracks between the boards again. Kakashi's stutter had stirred up some uneasiness in him. He'd never heard the smooth talker stutter before.

"I can take over the watch, if you want," Kakashi offered, resting down next to Yamato on the pillows flung onto the floor in an attempt to make the lookout seat more comfortable.

"It's-"

Yamato's words glued to his throat as soon as he glanced over to look at Kakashi in the dim light shed by the moon. What was visible of his face was whiter than usual, pronounced hollows beneath his vacant gaze as he stared dumbly ahead. Yamato dropped his gaze to his hands, coated in the same old cracked gloves, and gulped. Hatake's hands were visibly shaking, wrung around each other in some kind of twisted comfort.

"I'm not going to sleep tonight anyway," Kakashi said quietly.

Yamato had never seen the man as anything more than a condescending douchebag with food. To see him looking so... human was a definite shock to him.

"Why?"

Kakashi turned his gaze on him, and Yamato was once again struck by how haunted he seemed.

"Why what?"

"Why can't you sleep?"

Yamato realised his question might be overstepping his boundaries a little, but the question was spoken now. He wanted the answer.

Kakashi's unfocused gaze examined him some more, Yamato picking up almost inaudible mutterings from under his mask.

"Nightmares," was the eventual, direct answer.

Yamato could identify with that.

"We've all seen some shit," he murmured, half to himself.

"Yeah..." Kakashi breathed, and they sat in silence for the rest of the night.

-A FEW INDEFINITE HOURS LATER-

"So, why did you bring me all the way out here?" Yamato asked to Kakashi's back.

He got no answer until they reached a clearing in the woods, leaves drifting ominously across their path. Kakashi turned around and faced Yamato seriously, halting both of them. Although neither of them had slept the previous night, the exhaustion wouldn't set in until later. As of now, Yamato felt fine. However, as he quietly examined Kakashi in the daylight, he couldn't guarantee the same for him.

"Since you want to be my partner, I'm going to train you."

"I know how to bash a zombie's face in already."

"You don't get it. You'll need these skills one day."

"Alright," Yamato sighed, stretching his arms above his head, "What do I have to do?"

"Take these bells from me," Kakashi stated, standing about two meters in front of Yamato, two jingling silver bells in his palm.

"Why?"

"Hm?"

"Why exactly do I care or want these bells?"

Kakashi glowered at a frowning Yamato, connecting the bell strings to his jeans.

"It's just an exercise."

Yamato regarded the bells chiming against Kakashi's hip for some moments, and then regarded Kakashi himself.

"Alright. Any rules?"

"Go wild," Kakashi deadpanned, looking as uninterested and bored as Yamato could imagine him.

And then, he took out the book.

"Really?" Yamato snapped, gesturing in irritation to the luminous orange cover, "I'm not twelve!"

"If you make me take my eye off the words I'll be surprised," came the expressionless answer.

"Prick..." Yamato grumbled, lunging forward viciously.

-

"Alright, I think that's enough for today," Kakashi said, lowering the book, "Good work."

His breaths laboured and heaving, Yamato unwillingly dropped to his knees, drips of sweat dampening the leaves beneath his curled fists.

"Chin up," Kakashi walked over, examining a panting Yamato, "You got in some good hits there. Honestly, I'm impressed you even touched the bells."

"Pathetic," Yamato gasped, "Again..."

Kakashi plopped down beside him, raising his vision ever so slightly over the book.

"What were you doing before?"

"Secretary," Yamato answered, beginning to get his breath back.

"Really?"

"Why are you surprised?"

"How the fuck did you survive?"

Yamato squinted at him, suspicious.

"Are you knocking secretaries?"

"No,no," Kakashi smoothed over, "I wasn't commenting on office workers in general. I was simply commenting on you."

"Aw, thanks," Yamato groaned sarcastically, cracking his back as he sat up.

"You're interesting," Kakashi murmured gently, his gaze locked onto the pages.

"Huh?"

"I said you're annoying."

Yamato smirked, leaning over and noting the page number.

"You haven't turned a page in ages. You might've been looking at it, but not-holy shit," Yamato's words died as he began reading what was on the page.

"She screamed in ecstatic pleasure as he thrust powerfully into her, his engorged manhood fulfilling all her filthy desires-" Yamato read out aloud, disgust lacing his tone.

"So you're not just an asshole, you're a pervert as well."

Kakashi shrugged unashamedly, a light pink blush just about visible as he giggled lightly, a sound that alarmed Yamato.

"You're one weird guy, you know that?"

Kakashi simply hummed back in acknowledgement, having no defence, flickering his finger over to the corner of the page. Yamato hastily put out a hand to halt the page-turn, earning him a quizzical stare.

"I...hadn't finished reading that page..." he muttered, going ever so slightly reddish under Kakashi's triumphant, teasing eye-flash.

Kakashi's soft chuckle made Yamato glare down, embarrassed, at the page with more concentration than was necessary, the tips of his ears becoming coloured.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Kakashi defended easily, a hint of laughter still lingering in his voice.

"Hmph," Yamato slouched further towards Kakashi, eyes scanning the page quickly.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, trying to get a stubborn Yamato to meet his gaze.

"Do I have permission to turn the page now?"

"Yeah..."

-FOUR MONTHS LATER-

"I told you about Danzo?!" Yamato exclaimed, disbelieving that Kakashi would actually listen to him.

They'd found a stash of alcohol the other night while scouting through a new neighbourhood, and had agreed to regulate themselves. The arrangement they'd come to was only one of them becoming tipsy, lest they both do something stupid ending in death. However, Yamato was finding out that drunk him apparently babbled a lot-and since Kakashi was sober, he remembered all of it.Unfortunately.

Kakashi chuckled lightly, out stretching a hand to ruffle Yamato's messy hair.

"Drunk you also insists on calling me 'senpai.' I'm not quite sure why."

"It's probably because you won the first fight," Yamato grumbled, pushing a teasing Kakashi away with one hand.

Kakashi let himself be pushed, but the twinkle of mischief Yamato had learned to recognise remained, making him anticipate more messing about.

"Mm, are you angry you told me?" Kakashi asked airily, swinging his machete around the back of his hand as he spoke.

"It's just..." Yamato pouted, swaying through the wood absently, pondering his answer.

"It's kind of personal, I guess."

"Heh..." Kakashi snorted, following Yamato on the narrowly worn path, their calculated footsteps barely quiet rustles.

"You're sensitive. Maybe I'll tell you some things one day."

Huffing at Kakashi's blunt sentence, Yamato crossed his arms in annoyance and halted abruptly. He felt Kakashi hastily stop inches behind him, his head tilting in a silent question as Yamato rotated around to face him. he choose not to answer the obvious query being directed at him and instead reached for his axe slung over his back, stretching his mouth into a grim smile.

"I'll show you how 'sensitive' I am," Yamato challenged, his axe firmly in his grip.

Hatake caught on instantly, his machete ceasing whirling around his hands while he took one step back.

"Rematch?" Kakashi asked, winking his eagerness over at him. As if he even needed to ask that.

"Of course," Yamato confirmed, recalling their first fight four months ago-he was certain he'd gotten better. Likely not good enough to beat Kakashi, but better. To be honest, he was just hoping to force Kakashi to use his dominant hand instead.

Kakashi's machete was resting in his right palm, and Yamato took instant offence.

"Don't insult me. I know you're left-handed."

Kakashi sighed, but reluctantly tossed the machete to his other hand, showing off and flipping it over in midair, catching it deftly.

"Alright. I didn't know you had a death wish-Don't expect me to hold back," he added, coupling it with an implied impish grin.

Pissed, Yamato lunged at him, regretting his choice of the slowest, most lumbering weapon to bring out today. His first strike was dodged, Kakashi deftly flexing around the head of the axe and attempting a kick at Yamato's wrist. Pulling back instantly, Kakashi struck air-unbalanced, Yamato took advantage and suddenly dropped low. The axe handle cracked against his shin and Hatake wobbled before leaping backwards to regain balance.

The spark of battle was present in both their chests, letting it flare into their gazes as they stared each other down. Honestly, Yamato was pleased with how he doing so far. Kakashi appeared to be faltering a little, and Yamato was intending to take full advantage.

For the second round, it was Kakashi who approached first, warily creeping forward defensively. Yamato stepped forward also, the axe held sideways in caution. First to act was Hatake again, slashing downwards at Yamato's neck, then, after Yamato parred it over his head and attempted to drop under his guard, followed it immediately with an uppercut. Yamato felt the rush of air as he jerked his head to the right, the forceful punch grazing his jaw. Luckily, this meant Kakashi was near enough for Yamato to flip the axe around and slam it towards his stomach. A snarl escaping from his opponent, he twisted sideways and the wooden handle swung past harmlessly. Kakashi used the closeness to jab his elbow at Yamato's face, guessing on the fact he wouldn't have enough time to react. He didn't, and pain pierced Yamato's cheekbone as he lurched to the side, instinctively bringing up a hand to rub at his injury.

"Ah, fuck," Yamato cursed, glowering menacingly at the other individual.

"That bloody hurt."

Kakashi shrugged with disinterest, looking annoyingly unashamed.

"Of course. It's supposed to."

Yamato pitched towards him again on a streak of impulsiveness, yelling out with satisfaction as his fist connected with Kakashi's jaw. The joyous shout echoed through the trees, Kakashi stumbling backwards and placing a hand on his throbbing jaw.

"Idiot," Kakashi hissed as he retreated, spinning around in alarm.

"You'll alert them!"

Yamato's eyes widened as he realised his mistake, groans and shuffling becoming audible.

"Shit," He cursed, seizing Kakashi's arm and pulling him back the way they came.

Kakashi needed no persuasion to run, sprinting violently in step with Yamato, weaving hastily through trees and zombies alike on the well-traced path. They zoomed urgently closer to their hideout, trying to be as quiet as possible to shake the dragging walkers off. It wasn't the speed of the zombies that killed-it was the numbers, the unnatural strength, the relentless attacks that were virtually impossible to stop.

Kakashi grunted as he barrelled into an unexpected figure, slashing right through the rotted torso. Yamato shuddered as they ran on, hearing the sickening rustle of the top half of the zombie clawing its way towards them. He thought he'd get used to the constant intestines idly hanging out of dead bodies. He never did.

"Fuck, we're cut off!" Kakashi cursed, skidding back to Yamato from the corner he'd vanished around.

"Go to the other place!"

Yamato nodded, rapidly taking off after Kakashi, hearing the familiar groaning noises of limbs splattering to the ground as he turned his back. They had gone scouting one day, securing a secondary base in case the first was overrun or they risked leading a horde back there. The food/water stockpile in the basement was split also, so it was possible for them to reside there for days if necessary.

"On your right!" Yamato cried out, a form looming out of the shadows as Kakashi passed.

Ducking under the arms with the reflexes of a pro, Kakashi sent the undead's head rolling in a flash, mildly impressing Yamato once again with his skill. Hatake disappearing around a corner ahead of him, something caught Yamato's eye and he halted, scooping up the metallic object.

"Ack!"

Kakashi's muffled exclamation had Yamato racing around the corner, his axe thunked into the skull of the zombie in a millisecond.

"Thanks," Kakashi said breathlessly, shoving the zombie corpse aside and picking himself off the ground with the help of Yamato's hand.

"We're almost there."

\--

Panting heavily, both of their backs slammed against the inside of the safe house door, slipping down slowly in the welcome realisation they were okay. The last leg of the trip certainly hadn't been easy, the discovery of the "safe house" being surrounded by undead a bit of a setback. Eventually, after much skirting around, they'd identified a weak point and quietly waded through the group, discreetly killing as needed. Thankfully, there was an actual key to the door so breaking through wooden boards wasn't needed. Neither spoke for a few minutes, both presumably being too exhausted to move or piece together a sentence. Eventually they got up the energy to turn to look at each other, and the motivation to laugh came instantly.

"You look like shit," Yamato laughed, a gut-drenched Kakashi smiling warmly back, producing a clean tissue from a pocket somewhere.

"You do too," Kakashi yawned, his eyelid pressing shut as his jaw stretched under the material.

A question had been stalking Yamato's consciousness for several months, and as he watched Kakashi's grey eye crack open again, the question leapt out of his mouth.

"Why do you have so many scars?"

Pausing, Kakashi's stare briefly sprung over to Yamato before he sighed shallowly and shifted around to face Yamato properly.

"Why do you want to know?"

As Yamato contemplated his answer, he noticed the tiredness drawing shadows under Hatake's eyes, and sadness diluting his pupil. Yamato halted thinking about his answer and began thinking on whether he should ask. As if he knew, Kakashi then spoke up.

"I don't mind telling you, just as long as you have a reason-a good one."

Yamato's bright brown eyes and his mouth widened at first, then both settled-he'd chosen his answer.

"Because you trust me."

Yamato got to experience then what he'd never seen before-Kakashi looking, for a split millisecond, taken aback. Then the familiar chuckle came, and the unfamiliar uneasiness slid away again.

"I admit, that's a good reason. It doesn't apply to many people. I'll tell you-no, I'll show you."

With that, he raised his hands to the back of his head, untying the generously fastened knot of cloth at the back. It fell, and Yamato struggled not to gasp at the elevated, elaborate pale scratches etched into Kakashi's lower face like some kind of intricate artwork. They splattered across his slender nose, his thin cheeks, his arched lips like an unwelcome invasion of white soldiers across skin. His fingers unfurling, Yamato's hand reaching out subconsciously to touch it, he realised his actions a second away from making contact with Kakashi's skin, and clumsily withdrew.

"It's alright," Kakashi breathed softly, taking Yamato's hand in his and placing it against his own cheek.

"See? They're just scars."

Yamato could feel the slightly raised cracks along Kakashi's face, and he deliberately traced them with his fingers, carefully, as if they were still fresh wounds.

"Your expression is so focused," Kakashi smiled, the straight pale lines becoming waves as his lips parted warmly.

Kakashi's fond grin knocked the breath out of Yamato's lungs, staring with broad, brown, twinkling eyes at the vulnerable face. He promptly widened his mouth into a returning grin, curling up his eyes as he chuckled with slight embarrassment.

"So..." Yamato began, glancing around the room, rubbing his heated ear.

"You never answered my question."

"Oh," Kakashi mused, tugging at a random strand of hair over his shut eye.

"I should probably tell you now, shouldn't I?"

"Don't say it like that," Yamato grumbled, shoving Kakashi sideways gently with his shoulder.

"It sounds like you're not going to tell me at all."

"Maybe I won't."

"You prom-!" Yamato cut himself off as he noticed the teasing curls at the edges of Kakashi's mouth.

"Alright, alright," Kakashi submitted, letting the smile break free as he stared down Yamato seriously.

"You must not tell anyone else this or-"

"Who am I going to tell?!" Yamato interrupted, gesturing around at the vacant room.

At Kakashi's sharp gaze, he fell still, trying not to grin as he apologised.

"Sorry. Go ahead."

Sighing, Kakashi attempted to keep a straight face-but it was much harder without any cover, and Yamato could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Long story short, I wasn't exactly leading an honest life before this-I got arrested a lot, made a lot of enemies and got into a lot of brawls," Kakashi shrugged, slumping back against the door.

"I got most of these from knife duels. It's not that exciting, I know, but it's the truth."

"Not that exciting?!" Yamato exclaimed, sitting up rigid.

"The most exciting thing I did before was ordering a different type of coffee before work!"

"Really?"

Kakashi's dubious look surprised Yamato, who drew his eyebrows together.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because where did you learn to fight then?"

Yamato tilted his chin upwards as he considered the question, scanning the peeling ceiling.

"I just...did whatever I had to survive. I learned."

Kakashi blinked, his hand rising up to brush against the slanted scars on his chin.

"That sounds awfully similar to what I did, except I've been doing it for much longer."

"Since when?" Yamato asked.

"Since I was six."

"Oh..."

Things fell silent after that, the room filling up with the sound of their quiet breathing. It occurred to Yamato they probably should get up, get some rest or wash but he felt comfortable here, with the hard, wooden and solid door at his back and Kakashi's leather jacket just about bumping off his shoulder. He thought about what he would be doing if none of this had happened-probably still at the office, just sorting paperwork. Yamato loathed all the reports, documents and other jargon but they had to be done regardless of feelings-however, he didn't miss them in the slightest. He wondered over his colleagues-his boss, Tsunade, her assistant Shizune, Izumo and Kotetsu, the two that always got the shittiest jobs together. Where were they now? Were they even alive?

Yamato highly doubted Tsunade would've let herself been bitten easily, but the odds were stacked extremely high. He'd have to keep an eye out for zombies he might know. Then his thoughts twisted to the information Hatake had just told him-he had seemed to be in a very risky "business." Did he have more of a chance in an environment like this than the one he supposedly was in, due to all the scars? Yamato's gaze flicked over to Kakashi, and once again those three oblique lines across his left eyelid held his attention.

"Hey, Kash..."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't get that one from a fight, did you?"

Yamato pointed vaguely to his left eye, which opened. Yamato yelped-he didn't ask for it to open-dark red scar tissue was slotted into the socket uncaringly, bits of the clotted remains sticking to the surrounding skin. It was fucking gross.

"Ew," was Yamato's manly response.

Hatake shut his eye again, giving a little, hiccuping sigh, gazing at a corner as he spoke.

"That's the most recent one. I tried to-well, I kind of tried to rub a stray dog. And it attacked me."

He turned back to glare at a giggling Yamato, who was guffawing pretty loudly and failing to hide it.

"What?! It was cute!"

"You know all the dogs are starving , vicious and mostly rabid by now!" Yamato chuckled, folding his arms around his stomach.

"That was a really stupid thing to do!"

"I know that now," Kakashi grumbled, sinking down into his jacket further.

He glanced across quickly at Yamato, and then uncurled his fist, remembering the tissue.

"Anyway, you're really fucking dirty," Kakashi stated calmly, shifting around again to face Yamato.

The lingering smile melted off Yamato's face as Kakashi outstretched his hand, taking Yamato's chin in his hold firmly. His other hand wiping gently at the muck on Yamato's face, Yamato was temporarily bemused, feeling the paper scratch away the dirt. He tried to ask Kakashi his query silently, but the other was evading his gaze, simply focusing on cleaning off Yamato's face.

"Kakashi?" Yamato finally spoke, aware how damn close Kakashi's face was leaning in, how close their thighs were, knees tapping-

"Stop," Yamato commanded himself, thankfully catching himself before falling into Kakashi's-so-attractive-admiration session. That had been happening way too often lately.

"Shh," Kakashi quietened him, rubbing the tissue over Yamato's nose, who scrunched it up in discomfort at the sensation.

"Mmmm..." Yamato groaned, acting like a child unwilling to put on suncream. His eyes were squeezed closed, his face tilted upwards as Kakashi swept the tissue carefully, but surely over his skin, hopefully dislodging dirt.

"That didn't help at all," Kakashi finally admitted, laying a grimy handkerchief down on the floor next to them.

Yamato cracked his eyes open again slowly, widening as he took in the nearness of Kakashi's slender, blemished face. He recognised the fact he should probably pull away, but Kakashi's thumb and forefinger were still cradling his chin and therefore he ignored it, bending forward gradually. Kakashi hadn't twitched a muscle either, unconsciously lowering his grey gaze to Yamato's lips. A pleasant shiver ran through Yamato quickly, and his lidded gaze swept over Kakashi's flawed face once more before leaning forward further.

He could feel Kakashi's rapid inhale against his mouth, but he pressed on, clasping their lips together lightly. It seemed to take centuries for Kakashi to relax against Yamato, but it probably was mere heartbeats before he returned the kiss in full.

Yamato tested the water further, deepening the kiss and threading his fingers through the uncombed, unkempt silvery hair. To his delight, Kakashi responded eagerly, compressing his body against Yamato harder, making him arch backwards as they kissed. It was funny-the thought had crossed Yamato's mind before to make a move on Kakashi, usually when he caught himself invading Kakashi's personal space too much without intending to-like laying his hand on his thigh unconsciously as they talked, or head-butting his shoulder affectionately. Kakashi hadn't seemed to mind at all however, even tentatively laying his head on Yamato's shoulder occasionally and whispering in his ear cautiously. Up until now, Yamato realised he'd been taking their close, natural friendship for something it definitely was not-platonic. As Kakashi's nose squashed up beside his , Yamato grinned into the kiss, glad he hadn't waited any longer. In in this world, they couldn't afford to waste time they didn't have.

-TWO DAYS LATER-

"I really hate peaches," Kakashi grumbled, playing around with the slices in the tin with his fork.

"I'm sick of them too," Yamato sighed, prodding the orangey glop in his own tin.

"But we have to eat them. So suck it up."

"Ughh..." Kakashi groaned, the metal clinking becoming more rapid as he messed about more.

Lifting a slice to his mouth, an idea entered Yamato's mind and he smiled to himself.

"Here," Yamato offered, outstretching his fork topped with a peach slice towards Kakashi to get his attention.

"Why are you..." Kakashi's words faltered and his eyebrows raised as Yamato withdrew his fork, placing it in front of his lips.

"Do you want it now?"

Kakashi was not impressed in the least.

"Why would I want it now? I still hate peaches."

"Fine," Yamato grouched, and proceeded to eat the slice as seductively as he could possibly manage.

A chuckle interrupted his concentration, and he glared, still chewing, over at Kakashi cracking up.

"What?!"

"I know-" Kakashi had to stop talking, he was shaking with laughter "-I know you were trying to eat it sexily but-" another pause in which Yamato gave him a death stare "-I'm sorry," He gasped, meeting Yamato's irritated gaze.

Yamato turned away from him with a "hmph", finishing his tinned peaches. Kakashi managed to calm himself, scooting over to Yamato, bumping his shoulder against his affectionately.

"Sorry...but Yamato, don't try and do that again. Trust me."

Yamato huffed, still refusing to look at Kakashi, who tried again.

"The thing is," he started, shifting around to Yamato's front and taking his face in his hands.

"I don't need an excuse to kiss you."

He leaned in, kissing Yamato swiftly and breaking the kiss before the annoyed Yamato could.

"Also-" he beamed, turning up the charming smile "-You don't need to try and be sexy and attractive. You already are."

"Uh.." was what came out of Yamato's still-parted lips as he gazed at Kakashi, a soft blush overtaking his cheeks.

"You've got quite a sliver tongue, you know that?" Yamato remarked, shaking his head and going for casual, attempting to cover over his embarrassed flush.

"Heh," Kakashi smiled, knowing very well about his skill with words.

He was rewarded when Yamato caught his jacket in his fist, bending forward and joining their lips together again. Kakashi traced Yamato's heated cheeks with his thumb thankfully, glad he wasn't annoyed anymore, however much fun it was to tease him. He could taste the aftermath of the peaches on Yamato's lips-oddly enough, he didn't mind at all.

-TWO-ISH YEARS LATER-

"How long have we been together?"

Yamato's voice interrupted the comfortable silence hanging over the room, lying next to Kakashi on the sole couch in the house. They could use the bed, but they'd developed a mutual dislike for it after a couple of sleeps. It was too soft-Yamato felt like his body was being absorbed into the mattress-but the couch was perfect. It was smaller, of course, but that just meant they had to squish together more to fit, which was more enjoyable.

"Mah, about two years I think," Kakashi answered nonchalantly, caressing Yamato's fingers tenderly between his own.

"I mean... together together. It was coming up to spring, wasn't it?"

"Ah, you mean dating," Kakashi clarified, shifting over on his side to speak to Yamato directly.

"I think around one year and eight months then...and like two weeks. I'm not quite sure exactly."

Yamato also flipped over to face Kakashi, his eyes squinting and a grin spreading knowingly.

"You know the exact figures, don't you?"

"Nah," Kakashi denied instantly, making Yamato's grin grow wider.

"Then how come your 'guess' was spot on?"

Kakashi's eye widened, his eyebrows rising as he realised he was unwittingly revealed. A pout formed on his lips and he flopped over back onto his back, letting go of Yamato's hand and staring up at the ceiling stubbornly.

"It was only a guess. I was just lucky."

"Oh really?" Yamato grinned, edging closer to Kakashi.

"I'll make you admit that you were counting too."

"Not going to-" Kakashi was cut off, Yamato's hands diving under his jacket lightly.

"Hey, don't-"

Once again, he couldn't finish his sentence before he was chuckling, writhing under Yamato's cheeky fingers.

"N-no, stop-"

"Admit it," Yamato beamed mischievously, busy running his fingers up and down Hatake's strangely ticklish sides.

He got a lot of laughter and squirming in response, Kakashi trying to inch away subtly from Yamato while shaking uncontrollably. His silver hair was tousled around everywhere, splayed out on the couch arm like a halo as he convulsed in squeamish giggling. Almost toppling off the edge, Kakashi grabbed instinctively at Yamato, catching his shoulder to steady himself. The blankets underneath them were beginning to twist, winding themselves around Kakashi's writhing body.

"Please," Kakashi gasped, Yamato's well-practiced tickling so masterful that tears were draining out of the corners of his eyes.

"Admit it."

Yamato was adamant.

"Okay, okay," Kakashi gulped, attempting to catch his fleeting breath, "I admit it-I was keeping track of the days a little-can you please stop now?"

"A little?" Yamato repeated skeptically, easing up on the fingerwork but not stopping completely.

"A lot! A lot!"

Kakashi's voice began getting higher, his laughter becoming hysterical while Yamato grinned wider, hoisting himself onto Kakashi's waist.

"Hmm..." Yamato pondered, Kakashi's jacket and top now pushed up fully off his midriff, allowing his hands easier access.

"I think I'm just about satisfied with that answer."

Yamato's hands became slower, changing to a gradual massage over Kakashi's torso. His chest heaving as he began to breathe easily again, Kakashi gazed up at Yamato, slightly irritated.

"I'm supposed to be the cool one here. You always do this."

"Do what?" Yamato smirked, tracing the dips and rise of his abdominal muscles.

"Make me..." Kakashi trailed off, running a hand back through his hair in frustration.

"Not as bored as you usually are?" Yamato suggested, his fingertips still dancing on his skin.

Kakashi shrugged, one finger tapping Yamato's thigh thoughtfully as he searched for the right word.

"I guess the closest way I can describe it is...happy, I suppose. You make me interested in life. As in, I'm glad I've survived up to this point."

Yamato blinked, Kakashi turning his coloured face to the side, evading eye contact. He let the words linger in the air between them, tugging Kakashi's jacket down over his belly again. Unfortunately, that was when his brain realised the importance of those words-spoken by Kakashi, of all people-and an instant, heartwarmingly wide grin split his face and words tumbled out faster than he could think about them.

"I love you."

Immediately, Yamato's hand pressed over his closing mouth. Kakashi's mouth did the opposite, dropping open as he gawked up at a reddening Yamato. Frozen, Yamato's warm eyes were locked onto Kakashi's shocked gaze, anxiety overtaking him. Was it too early to mention the "L" word? Was it going to scare Kakashi away? Did he just ruin their entire relationship?

"Heh..."

Kakashi's homely eyes curled upwards into a very familiar grin, the cloth around his neck swaying as he sat up. Facing Yamato seated in his lap, he carefully tracked his arms around Yamato's torso, drawing him nearer. Kakashi leaned in close to Yamato, his heart pounding as they touched noses. It somehow reminded him of their first kiss-hesitant, tension-filled yet incredibly passionate. This was the atmosphere filling up the air between them that Yamato sensed.

"I-," Kakashi breathed, the puff of air from his mouth circling Yamato's lips warmly. The rest of the sentence was unsaid, the words beginning to stick in his throat. He'd never even thought about saying this to another person before-friends were a foreign notion to him, and relationships he'd dismissed as impossible. Yet Yamato's dark, dancing eyes told him otherwise.

"What?" Yamato blinked, unsure of the inaudible sounds.

"I don't know if I can say this properly...but..." Kakashi whispered quietly, nervously.

"I love you too."

Yamato, slightly shocked, smiled at him gently and cupped Kakashi's face in his rough hands, pressing a thankful kiss to his lips.

"In this shithole of a world, I think you're the one good reason I should live."

"Haha..." Kakashi chuckled gently, smiling sweetly against Yamato's mouth, before kissing him lazily again.

-

"Hey Yamato, do you think that maybe, one day, this might be over?"

They weren't kissing anymore, simply brushing noses, touching lips as they spoke to each other, cuddling together. Legs entangled, arms draped around the others' upper bodies, they found solid comfort in connecting with each other. It also had the added bonus of keeping each other contentedly warm.

"I hope so," Yamato replied wistfully, outlining Kakashi's scars automatically.

"If this ended and we're still alive...will you stay with me?"

Yamato pulled back in ignition, tipping Kakashi's chin up to face him.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I'm going to stay with you. I want to be with you."

Kakashi didn't reply for quite a while, staring intensely at Yamato for so long Yamato began to wonder about his mental stability-if he hadn't realised his partner was a little insane long ago. Any survivor in this hellhole couldn't be completely sane. A smirk slowly grew over Kakashi's arrogant face and he leaned in closer, capturing Yamato's lips greedily.

"What's up?" Yamato asked, breaking away from Kakashi, who proceeded to kiss every part of his face he possibly had access to.

"Meh.." Kakashi slowly drawled, seizing several strands of Yamato's hair firmly  
as his other hand dipped beneath his shirt, grazing Yamato’s lower stomach suggestively.

"Just wondering why you aren't naked yet. "

Yamato narrowed his eyes playfully, looking through Kakashi's words as Kakashi nuzzled his neck with definite enthusiasm.

"Are you just embarrassed now and want to change the subject?"

"No," came Kakashi's muffled denial, his lips sinking into all the right hollows of Yamato's nape.

"Anyway, we've got no lube," Yamato added, grinding his teeth together at the frustration of reality.

"Kakashi, trust me, we would've fucked long ago if we had-where did you get that?!"

Yamato's excited exclamation came right after Kakashi lethargically pulled a small tube out of his back pocket, smugness written all over his face.

"You know that pharmacy we scoped out the other day? Let's just say lube isn't on most people's 'essentials' list. So I got it as a present for you."

"KY," Yamato read out, taking it to get a closer look.

"It's a good brand," Kakashi confirmed, beginning to crawl further on top of Yamato, sucking at his neck.

"And I prefer the phrase 'making love'..."

"Heh..."

Yamato half-closed his rich brown eyes to slits, winding his arms around Kakashi's sharp body as their bodies ground together naturally, slowly at first but quickly picking up the pace.

"Are you sure the building is totally secure?" Yamato murmured, one last doubt entering his mind.

"Way to ruin a sexy moment," Kakashi complained, however he didn't seem to be daunted whatsoever-his lips were still playfully dancing across Yamato's skin.

"Yes, I did a quick once-over. Everything is nailed up, and I couldn't see any hordes approaching-even sole zombies are keeping their distance. So-" Kakashi grinned in anticipation, "-we could risk being as loud as we want."

"That's a shitty idea," Yamato sighed, running his hands softly down Kakashi's chest.

He leaned forward, kissing him roughly on his nape, making his way up to below the jawline where he knew Kakashi was most sensitive. Nipping teasingly at the skin surrounding the spot, Yamato waited until he knew Kakashi's patience was about to run out before unexpectedly sucking hard right on the spot. A moan flowing through him, Kakashi barely contained the sound as Yamato, sensing the vibrations around Kakashi's throat, grinned devilishly.

"It's always so easy to make you moan."

"I think it's only because you know exactly what to do," Kakashi breathed hard, right in Yamato's ear.

Yamato grinned broader, his hands dipping lower again and tracing around Kakashi's waistband, feeling the angular edges of his hips against his eager palms.

"Damn right I do."

-EXACTLY FORTY-FOUR HOURS LATER-

The silent tears didn't wake Yamato up;it was Kakashi's uncontrollable trembling against his bare chest. His fingers were sinking dangerously far into Yamato's skin to the point of being painful, which concerned him further. Normally with the usual nightmares, he didn't clutch this tightly.

Yamato soundlessly curled his arms more around the quivering man, kissing the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. He knew from experience words would do little to ease his inner agony.

"No..." Kakashi choked, knowing what Yamato assumed he was upset about.

"It's not the nightmares today."

"Then what?" Yamato asked softly, his lips brushing off Kakashi's forehead in a gesture of familiarity. Letting him know he wasn't alone.

"It's-it's this..."

"What do you mean?" Yamato questioned, Kakashi's words stinging sharply, "Did I do something?"

Releasing a hollow chuckle, a shivering Kakashi brought up his hand and stroked Yamato's cheek, smiling tearfully.

"It's nothing to do with you, but it's everything to do with us. This is possibly the worst time for me to fall in love with you."

"Or the best," Yamato whispered back, "We help each other out here, and we'll survive because of it."

"I don't see me helping you."

"I have a reason to exist."

"But what about all the what ifs? What if we face a situation we can't fight our way out of? What if we run into looters and they have guns and simply shoot us?"

Yamato opened his mouth to speak, but Kakashi didn't stop. His fingers pressed into Yamato's skin anxiously, almost to the point of leaving bruises.

"What if one of us turns? What do we do then?"

Needing a minute to mull, Yamato stayed mute, feeling Kakashi's damp cheeks against his palms. After a while, Yamato shut his eyes tightly, wanting to block out the horrible scenarios hurtling through his mind. No wonder Kakashi was so upset, in such a state if he was imagining things like that. A tear leaked out of the corner of his eye, and he wiped it away quickly, reminding himself that they both were alright and alive now, and that was all that mattered.

"I don't know..."

Kakashi fell soundless, his movements quiet and rare. Yet his close grip on Yamato was still tense and unwavering, and his stormy eye couldn't close that night.

-A FEW DAYS LATER-

"Kakashi, talk to me."

"I am talking to you," Kakashi replied calmly, turning the page stiffly.

Yamato circled around to his front, trying to draw his gaze up from the page, grabbing his lower arm and attempting to push down the book covering Kakashi’s blank expression.

"I mean talk to me properly. You're being...cold."

"You're imagining it," came the stark answer.

"I'm not-Kakashi, for fuck's sake, look at me!"

Kakashi's jaw tightened, raising his devoid gaze up off the words and onto Yamato's frustrated almond eyes.

"Make it quick. I'm almost at the best bit."

"Why are you acting like this?!"

"I-"

Something had altered in Kakashi's expression, a hiccup in his smooth, icy voice. It was a single flash of wavering, momentary-Yamato barely caught it before it was plastered over again, masked with distant coldness. But he hadn't missed it. He put extra emphasis and urgency into his next word, striving to get through to him.

"Kakashi."

Spinning on his heel indignantly, Kakashi turned away from Yamato, ripping his arm from his grasp forcefully as he stepped away, heading for another room-anywhere else. Yamato stared after him, his fists curled up and shoulders hunched high. He couldn't figure out what was up with him-why he was acting as assholish as the time they first met-wait.

“So that’s it…”

Yamato raised his face to the ceiling, his chest deflating as he let loose a long sigh. He'd figured it out, and he reckoned it was Kakashi's deeply-rooted paranoia again-he'd happily put all his suspicions to rest.

In the adjoining room, Kakashi immediately locked the door, unable to stop himself sinking back against it as he sighed. The book forgotten in his lap, he vacantly stared up at the ceiling, pondering.

"Why is it so hard?" He wondered, absently rubbing his scarred eye.

When he'd decided to distance himself from Yamato, make himself impossible to love, he hadn't expected it to be easy. Unwittingly, he'd fallen deeper than he realised, and he knew Yamato was with him to stay forever, physically present or not. Kakashi had spent days thinking about the situation he'd thrust himself into and how he could stop the events from his past occurring again.

In this world, love was too much of a risk.

"Ugh..." Kakashi groaned, shutting his eye as he tensely gripped the front of his unruly hair.

He heard footsteps bound into the room, eye snapping open right before he was trapped.

"How'd you get-" Kakashi's voice faltered as he remembered, with evident embarrassment, the passage they'd installed (by knocking a hole in a few walls) in cause of an emergency.

Yamato grinned smugly at him, his arms locked on either side of Kakashi firmly, legs spread on his lap where he had dumped himself on Hatake.

"Did you forget our rule? All rooms have to have two exits."

"Hmph," Kakashi grumped, averting his gaze from the playful eyes.

"Do you know what date it is today?"

Kakashi blinked at the sudden question, mind on edge scrambling fruitlessly for an answer. Yamato didn't wait very long before blurting out the solution.

"It's the day we met. Two years ago."

Yamato pushed his face closer to Kakashi's, and he suddenly found himself very short of breath, being scanned fondly with bright, yet coloured dark eyes.

"I love you."

Yamato leaned forward with a loving smirk, and before Kakashi could dodge his face was in his hands, lips pressed up warmly against his. Kakashi tried not to respond, tried not to touch the gravitating man in front of him, he really did. But Yamato's lips melting against his deliciously made his willpower plummet into the abyss, and before he knew it he was kissing passionately back, his hands settling on Yamato's shoulders of their own accord. Anger rising in him, he wrenched his lips away, twisting his face to the side and feeling Yamato's hot breath seep onto his mouth as he pouted. He was raging at himself for letting himself give into Yamato, angry at the warm, content feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You shouldn't."

"Too bad, I do."

Yamato once again kissed him deeply, and Kakashi felt himself slipping effortlessly into bliss, Yamato's touching warmth banishing all the doubts festering in his mind. It was as if Yamato had some unspoken influence over him, a control that Kakashi didn't like the idea of but when he experienced the lightness it brought, he embraced it. He couldn't help surrendering happily into Yamato's thoughtful optimism, the determination Kakashi saw that was abundant enough to drive both of them forwards. His smile was a skilful masterpiece to Kakashi, and he couldn't begin to fathom why this man loved him. Separating from Yamato-who didn't try to stop him, perhaps sensing his will to distance himself was broken-he stared with wonder into his steadfast eyes. Kakashi couldn't remember the last time he'd seen so much love directed at him.

"I don't understand."

Yamato blinked innocently at Kakashi's thick-voiced inquiry, taking his hands and intertwining them with his.

"Don't understand what?"

"Why you love me."

Yamato seemed to find this amusing, and his laugh rang throughout the room, carefree and open.

"Often we're the ones most critical of ourselves. If you could see yourself from outside you, if you could see yourself from my eyes, you'd get it. Your insecurities and doubt would melt away, and you'd finally begin to realise how amazing you are. I wish I could explain it better than that," Yamato smiled, playing gently with Kakashi's calloused hands.

Kakashi was stunned into deep silence, his thoughts whirring too fast to keep track of them, and it was the same with his whirling feelings. He knew that the emotion spilling over him like raindrops, splashing onto his skin and clearing his vision, making everything brighter was definitely love. And one word came to mind when he gazed adoringly at the man closest to him.

"Tenzou."

"Huh?"

"It means 'heavenly creation.' I just...think it suits you. Since you don't have a second name."

Yamato's eyes narrowed in quizzical thought for a few moments before a grin slowly spread on his wide mouth and he leaned backwards, pressing his weight on his palms on the floor.

"Tenzou, huh? I like it..."

Kakashi shrugged, winding his arms around Yamato's waist.

"You don't have to accept it. It's just my suggestion."

"Kakashi, don't put down your suggestions. They matter."

Then Yamato's face swung back to Kakashi, his grin widening as he thrust his hand into a back pocket.

"That reminds me..."

He squirmed around on Kakashi's lap a little, his gaze lowering and a shy blush breaking like sunlight over his cheeks.

"There's not much choice when going gift shopping, but.."

He outstretched his closed fist hesitantly, smiling nervously. It made Kakashi's belly flip over with butterflies. It amazed him how Yamato could still affect him like this two years later. Kakashi's gaze lowered to his partner's palm, and his eyebrows rose up quickly.

"I know it's not very practical," Yamato admitted, staring at Kakashi's chest. "But I thought it might be your style."

Kakashi swallowed thickly, feeling his cheeks flush warm as he gazed at the item in his hand. It was a long, slender metal dog tag, engraved with his name on one side, the other blank. He could see slight flaws in the carving, but the obvious effort that Yamato had put in to make the letters even was admirable-it couldn't have been easy with just a penknife. Connected also by a long chain was an oval-ish disc with an insect imprinted on it, presumably also crafted by Yamato.

"I didn't exactly know what to carve on that piece," Yamato admitted bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sorry if-“

“Ssshh,” Kakashi hushed him, curling his fingers around the metal necklace. “It’s beautiful. And I love it, so don’t apologise, okay?”

Yamato started a little at his words, blushing a light adorable shade of pink as his grip on Kakashi’s hands increased nervously.

“I’m glad. I was kind of anxious that you wouldn’t like it,” Yamato chuckled in relief.

Then the obvious suddenly dawned on Kakashi.

“I don’t have anything for you…”

Yamato leaned forward, tapping their noses together with a cheeky smile.

“I know, you can start acting normally again. That’d be a great present.”

Kakashi huffed, pouting at Yamato’s teasing grin. Somewhere along the way, he’d totally forgotten his act and had begun acting natural again. He reckoned it was too late and too much effort to go back to the façade now anyway…

“I guess I can try.”

“That doesn’t sound like a yes to me,” Yamato observed, raising an eyebrow skilfully.

“That’s because it’s not.”

“It’s one word. Say yes and just let yourself act like yourself again. Please.”

Kakashi sighed deeply, hands ruffling Yamato’s short mahogany hair benignly as he pretended to give in-as if Yamato hadn’t won him over the instant he’d plonked himself down in his lap.

“Fine….”

Yamato elevated both his eyebrows, waiting impatiently for Kakashi’s commitment to be himself.

“Yes, I’ll stop being so cold. Happy?”

Yamato’s grin widened, and Kakashi couldn’t stop himself bending forward, wanting to taste Yamato’s grin on his own lips.

“Yes,” Yamato admitted, before meeting Kakashi’s mouth halfway and joining him in a welcoming kiss.

-MINUTES LATER-

“Hey, what date is it?”

Yamato shot a darkened look over at Kakashi, whose penknife was poised over the dog tag.

“You’re seriously going to ask me that today?”

“I apologise that I haven’t been keeping a calendar and marking off every single day,” Kakashi rolled his eyes heavily. “Just answer me. I know you’re good at keeping track of stuff like this.”

Yamato sighed, craning his neck to get a better view of the back of the dog tag in Kakashi’s hands.

“It’s the 20th of August.”

Something niggled in the back of Kakashi’s mind, and he mentally searched through his memory files for what it could be. Today wasn’t just the day he met Yamato...there was something else around this time. Something he missed.

“Thanks…” Kakashi absently said, focusing on scratching tiny slips of metal off the back.

He let his mind wander, and Yamato kept silent too, settling down against Kakashi’s chest like a contented cat, completely at ease. Kakashi frowned, irritated-he knew he was missing something, some important date he couldn’t quite recall. Vaguely remembering Yamato’s casual mention of August, he sunk back into the recollection of their conversation, concentrating. And then he got it.

Kakashi stopped carving in the tag to gaze at an apparently sleepy Yamato, kicking himself inwardly.

“It was his birthday on the 10th...should I mention it or just let it slip? He already think I’ve forgotten,” Kakashi thought guiltily, clutching the dog tag with shame.

“Kash, stop staring at me,” Yamato mumbled in a low tone, his eyes half-closing. Kakashi wouldn’t mind in the least if Yamato slept on him, but he was impressed on how the man actually picked up on his staring.

“Sorry…” Kakashi replied, dropping his gaze back to the date being imprinted on the tag gradually.

He bit the inside of his lip, musing it over as his hands worked. Maybe he could do something for Yamato without letting it slip he forgot.Kakashi was honestly pretty shit at choosing gifts or "thoughtful" things to do for people, and the only thing his perverted mind could think of was giving Yamato a surprise blowjob.

Kakashi sighed shallowly, making sure Yamato wasn't shifted around too much by the movement. He was stumped.

"I guess I could always deny he told me," Kakashi reckoned, but he didn't really want to take that approach. Yamato deserved better.

He finished engraving the dog tag, flicking down the knife deftly and finding himself gazing at Yamato again. His arms were wound loosely around Kakashi's upper torso, his cheek relaxing against his stomach and his eyes closed in content. Ruffling his fingers through his hair absently, Kakashi let his eyes wander down the rest of Yamato's body splayed out on the wooden floor, wondering how the hell he could possibly be comfortable. He suddenly got a rush of affection for the bright-eyed man in his lap, and Kakashi couldn't stop the gentle whisper slipping out between his lips.

"I love you."

"Ditto..." was Yamato's sleep-slurred response, coupled with a stifled smile.

Kakashi tilted his face forwards, placing a breezy kiss on the top of Yamato's head. He lightly curled his arms around Yamato, cradling him as his own eyelid began to droop.

He was wondering how the hell he felt so comfortable with a rigid wooden door at his back when he drifted off into sleep. He’d think about the birthday thing later.

\--SOME DAYS LATER--

I'm fine, Yamato thought weakly, leaning against the wall briefly as he watched Kakashi check off numbers on the stock take. I'm fine. It's nothing, must've just eaten a bad peach.  
It'll pass.  
"Alright, so we're running kind of low on soup," Kakashi reported, head bowed as he quickly scans through the list in his hand. "We're doing well with water, which is good, and the rainwater collectors seem to be working grand too..."  
Yamato waved away the queasiness in his muscles, the trembly shivers threatening to collapse his limbs as Kakashi strode up to him.  
He's fine.  
"Great," Yamato replied evenly, nuzzling Kakashi's neck affectionately. "So what do we have to gather for the winter?"  
"We'd better gather quite a bit, it's going to be a bad winter."  
Kakashi threaded his fingers through Yamato's short, mussy hair absently as he answered, eyebrows creasing together in thought. Yamato looked up at him and smiled, laying a kiss on his jaw. He really was adorable.  
"We'll go out tomorrow then. Maybe to the store on top of that hill?"  
Kakashi nodded surely, slipping the list onto the usual shelf and shifting nearer to Yamato.  
"Is that every check done for today?"  
"I think so," Yamato answered softly, recognising the lust in Kakashi's gaze. "We'd better double-check the windows, just to be sure."  
Kakashi groaned lengthily, his hand running down Yamato's side suggestively before clasping his hand in his. "They'll be the exact same as we left them the first time we checked. Yamato, let's do something fun before we have to sleep."  
"Um, I'm not sure if I'll be up for it tonight," Yamato answered carefully, squeezing Kakashi's hand. "I'm quite tired."  
"But sex," Kakashi protested, dipping his face-and mask-to nuzzle up Yamato's neck. "Even just a quick round?"  
Sighing, Yamato pushed an unresisting Kakashi off of him, not wanting him to realise how elevated his skin temperature was. Shivers racked through his limbs, and he stayed with his back against the wall, tracing his fingertips across Kakashi's chest and hoping it'll distract him from realising-  
"Yamato, are you okay? You're acting.." Kakashi tilted his head, surveying Yamato's eyes deeply. "Strange."  
"I told you, I'm exhausted," Yamato snapped back, sharper than he intended. He immediately rubbed a hand down his face, partly to cover up the sweat forming at his hairline. "I'm sorry, Kakashi. I need to go to sleep, but I promise we'll have sex tomorrow, okay?"  
"You don't have to promise me anything," Kakashi murmured, wrapping his arms around Yamato and pressing a lingering, soft kiss to his forehead. Then he frowned, Kakashi's sharp gaze flicking over Yamato's face. "Are you sure it's just tiredness?"  
"Yeah."  
He's fine.  
\--------  
Yamato's darkened eyes gradually cracked open to narrow slits, becoming aware of Kakashi's arms looped closely around his waist. A soft spot of warmth was pressed in between his shoulder blades, which Yamato realised was Kakashi's nose. Exhaling, Yamato's hands clasp over Kakashi's wrists, checking over himself.  
He felt fine.  
"Hey, Kakashi," Yamato murmured, turning his head to rest his chin on his shoulder and taking in his grey hair brushing against his back and neck. "Wake up."  
Kakashi shifted around slightly, his tightly wrapped arms pulling Yamato nearer, silently.  
"I know you're awake," Yamato teased, trying to provoke Kakashi into moving. "Come on, we have to get up."  
"Mm..." came the hum of protest, Kakashi's cheek pushing against Yamato's spine. "Stay with me longer..."  
His leg dragged up over Yamato's legs, trapping him further. Yamato twisted around, snuggling with Kakashi's head against his chest and nuzzling through his fuzzy hair with his lips.  
"You know we can't do that," Yamato mumbled carefully, breathing in Kakashi's musty scent. "As much as I want to, we have to investigate that store and stock up, remember? It's almost winter."  
"Ugh...." Kakashi groaned hazily, dipping his face deeper into Yamato's chest. "I know, I'll get up soon, okay?"  
"Good," Yamato threaded his fingers lovingly through Kakashi's messy hair, affectionately working out the knots.  
Kakashi raised his head from Yamato's collarbones and their eyes met, Kakashi's whole face unmasked and his eyes crinkled up in a smile.  
"I didn't hear a 'good morning,' from you yet, Tenzou."  
"We wake up every morning together and you never say good morning to me."  
Kakashi pouted, shuffling upwards to place a kiss on the edge of Yamato's mouth, working his warm lips delicately down his jawline.  
"This is my good morning to you," Kakashi whispered airily, blinking as innocently as he could with one eye.  
"Stop distracting me," Yamato breathed back, grasping Kakashi's chin in his hand and pulling his face away from his. He detached Kakashi's arms from around his waist, earning a moan of protest from the other and flung off the blankets coating their bodies.  
"Aww...." Kakashi's complain trailed after Yamato as he scrambled out of their worn bed-well, sofa. "Meanie."  
He reached out to Yamato dramatically and then flopped face first back onto the seat with a long groan, his hair splayed out messily over the side. Blankets were still tangled around his lower half as Yamato comes over and bopped Kakashi on his head lightly.  
"Are you still alive?"  
"Hardly..." was Kakashi's sarcastic answer.  
Yamato rolled his eyes heavily, spinning around to take care of the rumbling in his stomach. Then the dizziness hit, and Yamato stumbled for an instant before retrieving his lost footing. His back was to Kakashi as he tensely pressed two forceful fingers to his whirling forehead, inwardly cursing. Goddammit, what was wrong with him? He thought that the thing last night was just a fleeting thing, he felt just fine a few minutes ago-  
"Yamato? You alright?"  
Kakashi's soft voice kicked out Yamato's frustrated thoughts, and he turned around to face him with a smile.  
"I'm fine, so get up and help me out with breakfast."  
With that, Yamato did the ultimate get-Kakashi -the-fuck-out-of-bed technique.  
"I'll use your last remaining Icha Icha for kindling if you don't move."  
"No!"  
Kakashi frantically lunged forward in desperation, his body tumbling off of the sofa and splattering onto the floor, into a position which looked quite uncomfortable. He also appeared completely distracted from Yamato's tiny stumble.  
"Fuck me..." Kakashi groaned out.  
"Fuck yourself. I'm getting breakfast," Yamato shot back, thanking something-he’d long ago stopped believing in God- the mental queasiness had receded. For now.  
"When you do it so much better? Not likely," Kakashi winked smoothly back.  
Except he only had one working eye, so it looked like he was blinking intensely at him. Honestly, it looked quite funny, so it wasn't Yamato's fault he snorted.  
"Way to ruin the mood," Kakashi grumbled, but the edges of his mouth was quirking upwards as he flopped onto his back.  
"Stop jerking around and get up," Yamato scolded sternly, feeling like an old housewife as he nudged Kakashi with his foot. "I'll eat your share of breakfast."  
"I can live on roast zombie guts," came Kakashi's cheerful, carefree reply.  
Yamato wrinkled up his nose in disgust, physically clinging onto Kakashi's arms and dragging him to his feet. Kakashi deliberately went limp, slumping again Yamato's chest as he was slowly hauled upright.  
"You didn't have to do all this just to get me in your arms, Tenzou. I'm a lot easier to coax."  
Yamato dropped him.  
"Oi...." Kakashi complained grumpily, glaring at Yamato from his unexpected spill onto the floor.  
"You have two legs, use them," Yamato retorted, rapidly heading into the next room.  
He slumped back heavily against the wall, clamping an anxious palm over his mouth as his body quivered slightly with sudden bursts of shivers. There was a sensation like hot, thick, gloopy porridge being boiled to oblivion in his stomach that he really, really didn't like. He didn't feel like breakfast. Swallowing back the nausea, Yamato forced himself to straighten up, to stop succumbing to the creeping weakness in his limbs.  
Just in time.  
Kakashi rounded quickly into the kitchen, catching sight of Yamato near the wall. He outstretched his hand in a silent greeting, brushing warmly against Yamato's arm. Yamato smiled back at him.  
"What do you want for breakfast?" Kakashi asked, stretching to open the cupboard with the pillaged cereals in it.  
"I'm not hungry right now. I'll get something later," Yamato answered evenly, walking to the table and leaning heavily on it with his elbow propped up on the surface. He hoped Kakashi would accept the weak explanation without questioning it too much, but he didn't have much hope of that.  
"Are you sure?" Kakashi threw a dubious glance back over his shoulder. "You haven't eaten since yesterday's breakfast."  
"I did," Yamato lied back defensively, crossing his arms. "I had a snack last night."  
Kakashi turned around, doubtfully scanning him up and down.  
"I don't know...have you gotten thinner?"  
"Who hasn't?" Yamato deadpanned back and strode out of the kitchen with an abrupt, "I'm going to sharpen some weapons."  
Kakashi didn't get a chance to reply. He creased his nose up in worry, clasping a stretch of cloth from the table and fixing it over his lower face. His appetite was suddenly gone too, and he suspected it was something to do with the thick, smothering concern dribbling into his stomach.  
Yamato's legs stumbled into the next room, unable to brush aside the sea of dizziness sweeping him off of his feet. He sank silently to the floor, glad that he was out of sight of Kakashi's gaze as his head gradually cleared itself of the muddy fog. Clambering to his feet again, Yamato took a massive breath and approached the weapons slung along the wall. The pangs were growing worse, and more frequent too. Maybe he should tell Kakashi-  
Yamato shook his head, plucking down an axe from its rack. He couldn't do that. Kakashi wouldn't allow him to go out at all, and a spike of anxiety hit Yamato's chest as he thought of Kakashi being out there alone. There was no way he could ever stand staying in the house while Kakashi forged outside and risked his neck for both of them. And...what if Kakashi didn't come back one day? What if Yamato wasn't there to help him? What if Kakashi's last words were cursing Yamato for not answering his pleads-  
Yamato gritted his teeth, dragging the blade edge down a rough stone forcefully. Don't think of that, he told himself sternly. Focus on getting through one day at a time. Maybe, if they ever came across a pharmacy, he'd pick up some flu medicine or something. In the meantime, he was just going have to manage and get over it.  
\---  
It seemed to subside a little, Yamato's spells of light-headedness growing few and his appetite improved. Kakashi's previously increased attention to his actions faded too, and Yamato relaxed. For a few blissful days, everything was okay.  
Everything was fine.  
Until they heard the screams.  
Kakashi and Yamato were heading out that morning, leaves fresh with peaceful dew and sky alight with the rising sun. What was unusual about that day was that there were no walkers around, not even scattered aimlessly throughout the bushes.  
Luck, they thought tiredly. It was time that they caught a break.  
That luck drained away quicker than humankind was wiped out.  
"What was that?"  
Kakashi's head snapped to the left, tilting attentively to a sound unknown to Yamato.  
"You heard something?" Yamato questioned, frowning and concentrating deeply. Kakashi always had the better heading of the two, trained and sharp from years of surviving on the edge.  
However, the next shriek was louder.  
"Don't tell me you didn't hear that," Kakashi said, gripping his machete, guard heightened.  
"I did."  
Soundlessly, they began running towards the source, evading every stray branch and outlying tree masterfully. Keeping Kakashi in view in the corner of his eye, Yamato tried not to focus on the dread stamping happily down on his chest. The bone-piercing screams continued like terrifying flashes of lightning, brief and sharp.  
Like children.  
The thought drove a cold stake of horror straight down Yamato's spine. There couldn't be children still alive, surely. Surely all of them would've died by now, all but a hardened few, the toughest and the quickest. There just couldn't be-  
Kakashi suddenly piled on the speed. Yamato slowed down.  
The screams stopped.  
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."  
Yamato was deaf to Kakashi's cursing. He didn't want to go any closer. His footsteps shortened to soft pads on the earth, his breath spewing out of his mouth quicker than he thought possible. A lot of things that he previously thought were impossible were happening right now. Zombies clogged up every space within the trees, and Yamato could see, in between their grisly bodies, were terrified faces. Small faces, scrabbling up a flimsy tree frantically.  
The screamer, Yamato assumed, was part of the mangled, freshly clawed torso lying on the ground. Kakashi returned to his side, grabbing his arm urgently with his machete ready in the other.  
"We have to-"  
"No."  
"What th-"  
Yamato whirled around to face Kakashi, trying to keep his desperate voice low.  
"How are we going to make it through a horde that size?"  
"Light a fire, fight through them, I don't know, fucking something!" Kakashi hissed back, tugging on his arm intently. "Yamato, they're running out of time. The branch they're on is bending, can't you see?"  
"I can," Yamato said sharply. "I can also see the bite marks on their legs and arms."  
He was lying.  
Kakashi's grey eye widened.  
"Are you saying you're not going to help them because of that?!"  
Trusting that Yamato was being truthful, even though he couldn't see any bites from where he was.  
Nobody could. It wasn't possible.  
Kakashi pulled away from Yamato's still form in disgust, rotating to focus on the children, trapped up in the tree. Beginning to move forward, Kakashi was yanked back by Yamato's forceful hand.  
"You're not wasting your life on them," Yamato stated calmly. Inwards, he wasn't quite so calm.  
He fucking loathed himself. But he couldn't possibly let Kakashi take this massive risk.  
He couldn't bear to lose Kakashi.  
"My life isn't worth that fucking much!" Kakashi snapped back, trying to twist out of Yamato's iron-vice grip.  
"It is to me!" Yamato growled. "They're already dead, can't you see that? Saving them is pointless."  
Selfish.  
"I don't care!"  
"I do! It's just wasting our strength-and if you do save them, what then? You're going to let them turn into walkers, are you?" Yamato glowered defiantly at Kakashi. "Or are you going to kill them yourself?"  
Selfish.  
Kakashi opened his mouth, and a short, unbidden wail of pain emerged. His tightened jaw cracked shut, angrily turning away from Yamato's flaring stare.  
"I can't watch any more die like this and do nothing."  
"Then don't watch."  
Right then, both of them were reminded harshly that time was finite, that time didn't halt simply because they were deciding what to do.  
The branch jolted down once with several terrifying shrieks and sickening splintering, then fractured right underneath them.  
Kakashi instantly lurched towards them. Yamato forcibly yanked him back, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle his frantic protests.  
"Look at me. Focus on me. Don't turn around."  
Yamato wouldn't allow Kakashi to rotate around, embracing him almost painfully close, hand pressing against the back of his neck. Squeezing his eyes closed firmly, Yamato wished he could close his ears. Close his ears to the barely withheld sobbing next to him, close his ears to the horrifying whimpers, the dying begging of the desperate children.  
The screaming ceased after a few moments, suffocated by festering limbs.  
Kakashi ripped himself away from a yielding Yamato, too stricken to turn around. His eyes were watering.  
"We shouldn't have fucking left them to die!"  
Yamato forced back his own sorrow, attempting to shove away the tearing sounds of flesh being devoured mercilessly.  
"It’s the way it is. You know it would be impossible to provide for a group of-"  
Yamato broke off suddenly, his shoulders juddering forward in a powerful cough. Bending over, Yamato sucked in one gasped breath before another round of shuddering coughs hit him, making his entire body quiver with the force of it. Even Kakashi, who was currently angry at him, couldn't ignore it.  
"Tenz-hey, you okay?!"  
"Fi-"  
Yamato's coughing intensified. A palm was slapped sternly across his mouth as he turned away from Kakashi, making sure no germs floated anywhere near him. To Kakashi's annoyed gaze, it looked like uncaring rudeness.  
"If you're sic-"  
"I'm not sick!" Yamato argued hoarsely back, clearing his throat then continuing normally. "It was just a bit of food stuck at the back of my throat from earlier. It must've dislodged from the shou-the running."  
Kakashi stepped forward and attempted to touch Yamato's arm, but Yamato backed away, just out of his reach. His features cold and voice distant, Yamato narrated flatly, "What's done is done. We need to leave."  
"Alright..." Kakashi nodded reluctantly.  
"And," Yamato started, glancing back over his shoulder as he moves away mechanically. "You know from experience groups never turn out well."  
Kakashi flinched. A pang of shame pierced Yamato's chest, through the thin, false guise of irritation.  
"I'm sorry," Yamato murmured guiltily, swallowing thickly. "That was low."  
"It's okay. You're right," Kakashi mumbled, fidgeting with stray stands shredded from his jacket, not looking at Yamato.  
I hurt him, Yamato thought in anguish. Why had he brought up his past?! He knew Kakashi was still bleeding from old scars. Yamato shuffled closer to him, the surface anger stripping away, rapidly replaced by regret.  
"It's not okay. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry," Yamato gently took Kakashi's hands in his, wincing at how weak and diluted his apology sounded.  
Kakashi inhaled with a shudder, closing his eye to block the rushing, painful memories from getting to him. He hated seeming weak in front of Yamato more than anything. Yet his fingers twitched tighter around Yamato's as he counted to ten, calming himself before he could grow too frantic.  
"I'll be fine," he said firmly, withdrawing his hands from Yamato's. He meant it. "Let's go."  
Yamato shot him a concerned look, but Kakashi refused to talk more, simply brushing past him.  
"Okay," Yamato replied flatly, gulping back his knotted worry and following Kakashi.  
"Let's get back home."  
\---  
It didn't pass.  
Yamato's next warning that something was astray was the heat. It lightly skimmed over his skin at first, but soon it was engulfing his whole body in rapid jolts, shivers bursting out randomly, making his legs quiver with every step. Those steps were becoming slower and slower.  
Something was wrong, he knew with a sick feeling in his stomach.  
Maybe he wasn't fine.  
Kakashi's back in front of him was getting fuzzy, blurry, his jacket just blackened edges like burnt food smashed against a painting of a wood. Charcoal black amongst pale oranges, dull yellows and calm brown shades. Small patches of green dotted his surroundings here and there-winter was coming. But the black was shrinking quickly, overshadowed by the autumn colours, and it was at that point that Yamato realised he'd stopped. Kakashi wasn't used to Yamato falling behind, and, after all, it was every man for himself out here. He'd only weigh Kakashi down if he was ill. Maybe it's better for him if Yamato let him go. Kakashi would be absolutely fine without him, Yamato knew. He was a survivor like himself, after all.  
Yamato's hands groped outwards and he braced himself heavily against a tree, his coarse breathing hanging in the damp air.  
Maybe he should allow the clutching, cascading waves of faintness to take him.  
Memories of Kakashi's warm lips, of Kakashi's soft smile, of his shy touches overflowed into his destructive thoughts, and Yamato realised he wasn't that selfless. He called out weakly with a shrivelled up, croak of a voice, wishing he could still see Kakashi's back.  
"Ka-" was all that softly left his quivering lips before he crumpled helplessly to the ground.  
\--  
Kakashi didn't hear him.  
At those moments where Yamato was contemplating his fate with an addled mind, Kakashi was thinking of the route ahead, and their supplies. How long they'd last, and how long before they'd have to take a risk and move, in hope of finding a new, secure base.  
He sort of got sidetracked wondering if he and Yamato could make out outside their house without lowering their guard-fatally so, but mainly of practical things. Hacking at some branches as quietly as he could, Kakashi trudged through the dirt path, taking for granted that Yamato was behind him. Never looking back.  
Spotting a dim, staggering figure through the undergrowth, Kakashi tensed up, crouching down instinctively, and also instinctively glancing back to warn Yamato.  
He wasn't there.  
Alarm raced through Kakashi, and he frantically scanned all around him, searching for his soft brown mop of hair. Where the fuck was he? He was literally just there, safe and bringing up the rear-  
Wait. When was the last time Kakashi had turned around to check that he was there? Oh no, oh god, he couldn't remember, why the fuck hadn't Kakashi made sure he was actually fucking there before he went onwards?  
Kakashi knew why. Usually they were walking on falling leaves, but they were following the dirt path because it was quieter, their footsteps muffled by the earth. So when one set of feet stopped padding along, Kakashi hadn't noticed. Usually, he could hear Yamato behind him, his soft, reserved footsteps always reminding Kakashi that he was there with him, that he's got his back. Kakashi had become too accustomed to him being there, backing him up, he'd let his mind wander, unfocused on his surroundings. He trusted Yamato to be there.  
"Fuck," Kakashi cursed himself. Utterly pathetic. He couldn't even take care of one partner properly.  
Spinning around, Kakashi began pacing anxiously back the way he came, knuckles white around his machete handle. The woods were oddly soundless of any birds or animals, mocking Kakashi's loss, his utter terror and confusion. He didn't dare call out, for fear of nearby walkers closing in on them. Well, on him. He was still mentally referring to himself as if Yamato was still here with him.  
Kakashi's pace quickened, his heart plummeting up its efforts to pump his seemingly ice-cold blood around his body.  
What if a walker had suddenly ambushed him? Surely Kakashi would've heard his struggling. Surely he would've noticed something-walkers aren't exactly stealthy, after all, and it wasn't like Yamato to go down without a battle. Another fear jolted through Kakashi-what if a gang had captured him? Maybe they knew they had stockpiled supplies and planned to trade Yamato for them, or maybe force him to lead them to their hideout. He doubted that Yamato would be taken completely unaware and off guard, but he couldn't rule out the possibility for sure.  
Kakashi fought to keep his expression straight, to keep it from crumpling down weakly into concern. He couldn't lose Yamato, not like this. He didn't even know what had happened to him, and his stomach was throwing up all his sickly nervousness into his throat. He didn't even know if Yamato was still alive.  
He's tough, Kakashi half-heartedly reassured himself. He wouldn't die on me.  
Easily, his mind involuntarily added.  
He urgently broke into a restrained jog, desperately examining everything around him, head swinging from side to side as he ran on. He was aware that the hard thumps of his feet on the path might attract unwanted attention, but he didn't care at all. He could handle them. He needed to find Yamato first, then he'd worry about everything else.  
The breath was punctured out of Kakashi's lungs when he rounded a twist in the path, and it wasn't from the running. He saw Yamato, collapsed next to a tree, thick mud soaking into his hair and dotting the side of his face. Chilling fingers seized his heart, and Kakashi sprinted forward frantically, his thankfulness for finding Yamato overcome by his alarm.  
Folding onto his knees in front of him, Kakashi grasped his flat shoulders, lifting him up out of the dirt with a heavy gulp. He pushed two fingers urgently against Yamato's flushed neck with a tiny, mumbled prayer. Thank fuck, he was alive. Kakashi's heart lightened, just a little. There was no obvious wounds on his body, no apparent signs of an attack nearby. So what happened to him? More accurately, what was happening to him?  
"Fuck, Yamato, wake up...please."  
Yamato's head lolled forward, his face splattered with earth-from some kind of impact?-as Kakashi gathered his limp body up, tucking his legs underneath him.  
"Hey..."  
Kakashi held Yamato's torso upright with one arm looped closely underneath his arms, his other hand clasping the side of Yamato's face gently as he tilted it upwards. It was roasting, his damp, sweaty cheek like smouldering embers against Kakashi's palm.  
"You're sick," Kakashi realised, his brows drawing together in worry. He was an idiot. That was why Yamato hadn't been eating properly, why he was always resting against something, why he was acting strange. If Kakashi had picked up on it earlier, none of this would be happening.  
Okay, Kakashi told himself. I can handle this.  
He pushed aside the fact that Yamato looked really, really ill, his normally healthy, glowing face strained darkly with deep hollows underneath his eyes. His skin was damp from his sticky sweat and he was so pale, paler than Kakashi had ever seen him before. He was nearer in appearance to a walker than an alive human, and Kakashi shivered in fear at that thought.  
"Yamato, can you hear me?" Kakashi gently patted the side of his heated face, swallowing down his worry.  
Yamato didn't react, his body as limp as a ragdoll in Kakashi's arms, a ragdoll with a pumping heart, warm blood and a warmer personality. He wasn't going to wake up easily, Kakashi reckoned, hauling them both to their feet. It was difficult trying to scoop up Yamato without letting him fold back onto the ground, but eventually Kakashi, breathing hard, had him wrapped up in his arms, held close to his chest. It worried him how unbearably fragile he felt, as if he squeezed too tightly his weak body would break apart like a newspaper in a tornado.  
"Let's go," Kakashi murmured to himself, continuing forward on the path, considerably slower than before.  
Kakashi wished he had more of the type of strength Yamato has-the type to carry other people along with yourself. As it is, his legs were strained to their limits as he trudged on, as fast as he could go. They had been headed back to their main house, but their emergency one was closer, so Kakashi altered his route, hoping he'd hold up. He had no decent plan to get past the walkers dotted around their base like this, but he prayed he could figure something out. They always came up with something to get through safely-but that was both of them scheming logically together.  
Kakashi just hoped Yamato would wake up.  
\--  
A decent amount of minutes later, and Kakashi was crouched down behind a sparse bush, cursing all the dozen-or-so walkers stumbling around their secondary base. His quivering arms were empty, drained from carrying a man of equal height, but sturdier built than him for what seemed to be miles, but was probably only a couple of hundred metres. Glancing back over his shoulder at an still-unconscious Yamato slumped like jelly against a tree, Kakashi hissed in frustration.  
He could try to take all of them out swiftly and quietly first, clearing a safe path for them to haul ass through-but he was tired, his movements sluggish and lagging. There was no guarantee he could slaughter them all without drawing more to the attraction, and he'd have to leave Yamato alone and defenceless for a good while.  
Kakashi was never leaving Yamato alone again like that.  
Threading his fingers back through his dirty, coarse hair in frustration, Kakashi surveyed the walkers once again, trying to come up with something. Anything to get him and Yamato through there. One tottering form drew his gaze-around the edges of the clearing where the house stood, just about falling back into the clutches of the wood. The others weren't anywhere near this one.  
Kakashi unsheathed his machete slowly.  
With one glance back at a still-unconscious Yamato, Kakashi started to move towards the lone zombie, praying to fuck that Yamato didn't wake up when he was absent. His feet halted when the fear of a zombie stumbling across him entered his mind, and he fled back to Yamato, hastily positioning him in a less obvious spot, covered with leaves, bushes and branches. And it was a pretty damn good job, if Kakashi said it himself. Only tufts of Yamato's brown hair was visible, and some patches of rumpled clothing-definitely not enough to draw walkers, as long as he didn't move. Now, I just have to remember where he is, Kakashi thought. But it wasn't really a worry of his;he'd surely recall the thick tree, three evenly spread branches on either side which Yamato was nestled underneath.  
Kakashi crept cautiously onwards;locking onto that one drifting walker and slowing his breathing, concentrating deeply. Quiet, quiet, he couldn't make a single sound to alert it, lightly sneaking over twigs that could mean the dismal end of his plan. Now, Kakashi was only a few metres away, and hovering around the limbo of the house and the wood, not quite in either, was the walker. His precious target. Kakashi needed it to face towards the house, its once human heels scuffing the leaves at the rim of the wood. Right now, it was facing the wood, vacantly tumbling forwards towards any single rustle of the leaves in the twisting wind. Kakashi carefully selected a stick, arching it back as he aimed deliberately, and flung it past the walker. It landed with a clunk against the outside wall, the effect immediate. The walker's head whipped towards the sound, its body following along a little bit slower. Not a second later, Kakashi pounced, driving the screwdriver into its jaw hinge as he levered the jaw apart with a wet, sickening clunk of tearing tendons, rotting skin splitting into folds of gross little shreds that dribble to the ground as he hauled it backwards, an arm latched around its waist. He casted a feverishly aware glance around him, praying that the struggling walker’s noises of grunts and hungry pining go unnoticed by the rest of its kind. He couldn’t possibly afford to lead one single walker to them-he couldn’t deal with two while trying to keep one alive. Dragging it heavily through the mouldy leaves on the ground, Kakashi cursed profusely underneath his breath. Fucking damn it, he’d just hauled Yamato’s unconscious ass all the way back and now he has to deal with this zombie prick wedging its heels into the dirt and slowing them down. Kakashi’s arms were already weary, strained, unused to all the extra stress, but he gritted his teeth together stubbornly and dragged on, telling his complaining arms to shut the fuck up. Finally reaching the bush where Yamato was hidden, Kakashi held back a deep groan as he lowered the deceased walker to the ground and straightened, his back cracking quietly.  
“You better appreciate this,” Kakashi muttered softly as he drove a trowel through the walker’s chest to pin it down in place. The quip didn’t help decrease his worry, however, and his lips pressed together tightly. Yamato was still out cold. Stay fucking calm, Kakashi told himself. He’ll wake up soon. Still, he can’t push back the shiver of dread worming up his spine entirely.  
Kakashi steeled himself and took out a small, sharpened knife This bit always grossed him out, although it grows less every time he rips down the festering flesh. With a single inhale, Kakashi tore along the entire length of the walker’s torso, a sickeningly foul stench jolting up his nostrils, forcing him to recoil sideways. Clamping a firm hand over his lower face, Kakashi’s stomach turns horribly, burning bile rising up in his throat as he tries not to retch everywhere. With his free hand, he grudgingly rotated back to the walker and plunged his hand into the rotting organs. They felt squishy, with a weird texture similar to raw liver, and they broke apart easily once Kakashi clasped something-the kidney, he reckoned. First, he took care of himself, splurging guts and decayed blood over his entire body. He stank.  
“Alright, sleeping beauty, your turn,” Kakashi muttered out, pulling Yamato out from under the cover of the bush. Somehow talking to Yamato calms him down. He thought he’d go mad in the silence.  
Scooping out some more unknown insides, Kakashi reluctantly smeared it profusely all over Yamato, careful on his chilled skin. He leaned over Yamato, fingers gently brushing over his cheeks. He was trying not to let the worry and concern get to him, but Kakashi simply couldn’t stand seeing Yamato so helpless. It put Kakashi under more stress than he felt he could handle, knowing that Yamato is entirely depending on him now. Just him. And Kakashi never was good at taking care of people. Swallowing thickly, Kakashi inhaled with a tremble, his hand slipping into Yamato’s, wishing it would close around his.  
It’ll be different this time, he told himself shakily.  
“Come on,” Kakashi said to him, kneeling by Yamato’s side and sliding his hand underneath his knees and lower back. He didn’t know if the irregular shape of him carrying Yamato like this will attract attention, but he couldn’t do anything else. This was his only choice, a terrible risk to them both, but Kakashi thought that it was mostly the scent that draws the walkers, not the human shape. If it was the shape, they’d all be attacking each other. Kakashi hoisted Yamato up, curled into his chest, with a laboured grunt, swearing lowly under his breath. Yamato’s body was very nicely toned, but heavy. And yet, Kakashi had an inkling sense that Yamato should weigh more than this;his body had sharp edges, shoulderblades digging into Kakashi’s arms. Kakashi didn’t recall being able to feel Yamato’s ribs through his shirt, either, not on one of his many enjoyable explorations of Yamato’s body.  
How long had it been going on? Kakashi wondered, staggering unsteadily upright. How long has he been hiding this from me?  
“You fucking idiot,” Kakashi muttered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
Yamato didn’t answer.  
Which didn’t help Kakashi at all.  
Taking a deep breath, Kakashi stepped forward, surveying the positions of the remaining walkers around their base expertly, mapping out the least dangerous path mentally. They were spread out fucking everywhere, ringing the house tightly like trained guard dogs. Kakashi grimaced at the comparison. He liked dogs. Walkers, not so much. He slipped behind a luscious tree, cursing the lack of leaf coverage. His hiding spot wasn’t very effective, but if he didn’t make any noise and waited for a break in the swarm, he should be okay. They both should be okay.  
Kakashi waited for a few minutes, memorising the pattern of the walkers, seeing the irregular ones that altered direction every so often. But he was always poised and ready to make a break for it. Kakashi wished he could throw something to distract them, but it was impossible while holding Yamato, and if he put him down, the delay of picking him back up might cancel out the time bought by the distraction. And if he made a noise while scooping him up again-not good. Eventually, when his arms felt like liquid fire, there was an opening. A period of time he predicted where they’d be out of sight of all the walkers clumped around the side of the house. Kakashi stumbled out of his concealment, moving quickly towards the chosen entrance-a window frame, boarded up and without glass but able to slide upwards like a sash window. They’d ensured there were many exits and entrances to their base, and Kakashi hoped this one would be the easiest and quickest.  
He reached the window successfully, glancing around at the walkers slowly filtering back into this area, and cursed inwardly. Praying that the smell slathered all of them both buys him some time, Kakashi fumbled at the window, unwilling to let Yamato down for a second. His right arm was supporting most of Yamato’s weight as his left scrabbled at it, finally finding the edge and hauling it upwards hastily. Too hastily.  
“Shit,” Kakashi muttered angrily at the harsh screech of wood against wood.  
With all the wet weather, the normally quiet wood must’ve absorbed the rainwater and expanded, making it difficult to slide it past each other. They overlooked something, and now the zombies were coming. A frantic glance behind him confirmed that he was right, the walkers had heard and were advancing on them.  
Well.  
Shit.  
Trying not to rush, Kakashi leaned forward, easing Yamato into the room carefully, but the opening from waist-height to around his neck. There was no way he could gently let Yamato down onto the floor, but he was determined to try. It was wide enough that Yamato, curled up, could fit through, but the more Kakashi held him away from his body, the more his arms burned with exertion. It was very awkward also-Kakashi’s arms stuck through the window, dropping Yamato down as low as he can with his face pressed up hard against the upper wooden pane.  
“Sorry, Tenzou,” Kakashi breathed out heavily, and let Yamato roll out of his arms.  
He winced, guilt jolting into his chest but luckily, judging from the quickness of the thump, Yamato was only a few inches off of the floor. Tensing up, Kakashi could hear the gurgling groans of the walkers right behind him, whirling around with his machete to cut down the one nearest to him. As it turned out, there was a dozen more behind that one. He’d stalled too long. Backing up, Kakashi made sure his body covered the opening, slashing tiredly at any advancing walker. He was tired-his arms felt like they were past the point of dropping off, completely drained from Yamato’s dead weight.  
He knew he didn’t have the energy to face all these undead. And he could see more rounding the corner, attracted by the commotion. Quickly, Kakashi sliced out his machete in a wide circle, creating a split instant of usable time. Rotating sideways, he placed one foot on the window sill and ducked his head under the sash, grasping onto the pane above him to keep his balance. Rapidly pulling up his foot still outside, he felt a heavy pressure on it, cold fingers clutching mercilessly around it. He’d overlooked the zombies crawling on the ground. Panicking, Kakashi kicked out frantically, sensing the mass of walkers barely a few seconds away. Losing his balance, Kakashi toppled over into the room, a flare of agony coursing up his leg as it was torn between his falling body and the unrelenting pull.  
Landing forcefully on his shoulder, Kakashi let out a gasped cry, hardly having the sense to clasp his machete and sever the arm still latched onto his foot. The walker was groaning, struggling to make it over the windowsill, and Kakashi can see other undead piling up behind it. Surging upwards, Kakashi almost tripped over Yamato, lying motionless just underneath the window (Kakashi, with more momentum, had managed to hit the floor further into the room, bypassing over Yamato with only his legs landing over his torso.) A sharp pain shot up his leg again, and Kakashi cursed but stood up, staggering over to the window to slam it down. He tried to, but the walker that had grabbed hold of him was wedged in the space, decomposing hands clawing at his jacket. Kakashi had never been so grateful for that thing than then. The tough leather protection enabled him to pierce the walker’s skull with his blade, right through until it stopped moving.  
Now, the others were sticking their arms through the gaps on either side of the rotting torso, attempting to reach them. Taking a deep breath, Kakashi stepped back and swung powerfully, the freshly sharpened edge slashing through all the arms in one clean swoop. Immediately, Kakashi yanked out the dead walker preventing the window from closing fully, and it slammed closed with an amazingly satisfying thud.  
Kakashi and the body smashed into the floor. Crying out, Kakashi clutched desperately at his lower leg, panting heavily as the pain bolted up and down his nerves as if dancing around his body, setting his senses on fire as it went. Screwing his eye shut, Kakashi tried to block out the whirlwind of agony, staying at still as humanly possible, just frantically praying that it would decrease in a few moments. After a good few seconds of being immobile, the pain started to ebb, flowing gentler through his leg. It was bearable. His breathing steadying, Kakashi swallowed hard, opening his eye only to take in Yamato’s motionless body beside him, a wave of worry slamming into his chest.  
“Tenzou,” he whispered softly, outstretching his hand to brush tenderly against his cheek.  
As if in response, Yamato stirred, eyelids fluttering gently.  
“Tenzou!” Kakashi exclaimed, louder this time, relief running through him.  
“Mm…”  
Tenzou groaned, flopping over onto his back, awakening slowly. Kakashi watched with a wide eye, hope jamming up his chest, preventing him from speaking in case he jinxed it. He had missed him more than he realised.  
The first thing conscious Tenzou did was wrinkle up his nose in disgust, sitting up and examining his filthy clothes in confusion.  
“Why am I covered in walker guts…?” he asked slowly, uncertainly.  
Kakashi launched himself at him, clumsily embracing him tightly and fucking ignoring the agony in his leg. It was worth it.  
“Thank god,” Kakashi breathed gratefully into his shoulder, able to pick out Yamato’s scent even through the stink of undead.  
“Hey,” Yamato greeted him softly, hugging him back. “What happened?” Then he caught sight of the walker splayed out on the floor, and tensed briefly before realising it was dead. “Why is there a zombie on the floor?”  
Kakashi didn’t answer for a minute or so, nestling his face in Yamato’s hair. Yamato felt alive, warm, sturdy again-all the precious things Kakashi associated him with.  
“Kakashi?”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Kakashi pulled away, attempting to hold back a flinch at the burst of fire in his leg. He failed.  
Yamato’s brow scrunched up, examining Kakashi up and down with concern. “Are you injured?”  
“I’m fine,” Kakashi replied dismissively as a vague answer, scanning Yamato intensely. “How do you feel?”  
“Fine, why…”  
Yamato turned his face up to the ceiling, a sigh falling from his lips.  
“I passed out.”  
It wasn’t a question, but Kakashi nodded anyway.  
“You did. For a good while. Yamato, tell me what’s happening to you,” Kakashi insisted, reaching out and clasping his hand.  
“I told you, I feel fine.” Yamato stared up at the ceiling, evading Kakashi’s gaze. His hand lay limply in Kakashi’s.  
“Stop lying to me.”  
Yamato brought his gaze back down, staring directly at Kakashi.  
“Nothing you have to worry about,” he said flatly. “I tripped and hit my head, then got knocked out. Tell me what happened then.”  
He still didn’t want Kakashi to know, but from the appearance of things and how Kakashi was trembling slightly, something bad had occurred. A pang of shame hit Yamato. Kakashi had to drag him all the way back home because he fucking fainted. Being a burden and adding pressure is the last thing he wanted to do, which was why he never told Kakashi in the first place. He never thought he’d actually pass out, though.  
“Do you not trust me?” Kakashi asked suddenly, sharply. Completely disregarding Yamato’s weak explanation.  
“Of course I do!” Yamato snapped back, harsher and more defensive than he intended to be. “I just don’t want to worry you, okay? Let me handle this myself.”  
He flinched instinctively, more having slipped out of his mouth than he wanted.  
“Obviously you can’t,” Kakashi pointed out, his tone still bearing an edge. “You’re sick, aren’t you? How long has it been going on for? Why did you hide it from me?”  
His voice bore a strong tone of betrayal, one that just added onto Yamato’s guilt.  
“If I did…” he started, then sighed heavily. “I’d just be a burden on you. You wouldn’t let me go outside with you. And I don’t…” his fingers tightened around Kakashi’s. “I don’t want you going out there alone.”  
Swallowing thickly, Yamato lowered his gaze to Kakashi’s chest, ashamed as he realises how selfish those reasons appear. He didn’t want, he didn’t want, he, himself, his selfish reasons…  
What about what Kakashi wanted?  
“I’m sorry,” Yamato breathed out quietly. “I should’ve discussed it with you.”  
“You’re going to tell me everything now,” Kakashi said back firmly. “We are going to discuss it, and decide what to do about it.”  
Yamato told him everything;about the shivers, the fits of dizziness, the coughing. His voice cracks every so often with remorse, but Kakashi’s steady gaze made him go on.  
“I don’t know what it is or what to do about it,” Yamato confessed lowly, bending forward and leaning his forehead against Kakashi’s chest tiredly.  
“We’ll manage it,” Kakashi told him, eye narrowing as he thinks, stroking through Yamato’s hair gently. “I remember there was a doctor or something living around here. I’ll try to break into her house and see what I can find.”  
“You mean we.”  
“Tenzou, I don’t want-“  
“I’m coming with you.”  
“You fucking passed out!” Kakashi reminded him sharply. “And neither of us know when it’s going to happen again. It’s endangering both of us until we find a solution. Do you really want to be in the middle of a swarm and pass out? I won’t be able to save you then.”  
“But what if you get into trouble? What if you never come back?”  
“Hey, I survived alone for years before I came across you,” Kakashi answered, playfully acting offended. “Don’t underestimate me so much. I’ll always come back to you.”  
Yamato nodded shakily, steadying himself. He couldn’t let fears get the best of him. Kakashi was strong. He could take care of himself. He knew that from the beginning.  
“Okay.”  
Kakashi pulled back, hands gently clasping Yamato’s shoulders and offering him a stained smile, eyes crinkling up. Stained around the edges with blood, but pure and genuine, heating up Yamato’s chest.  
“Come on,” Kakashi breathed out lightly, keeping up his hidden smile, eyes creased up warmly. “We need to get cleaned up.”  
Yamato nodded. They both smelled absolutely gross, and there was half a walker on their floor. First, though…  
“Thank you.”  
Yamato swayed carefully forward, grasping the side of Kakashi’s filthy bandana and tugging it down to reveal his relatively clean mouth, curled up in an anticipating smile. Yamato loved his smile-it seemed as if he was beholding it for the first time every time he saw it. Maybe he stared for a little too long, because then Kakashi spoke.  
“You going to kiss me to apologise for being an idiot?”  
Kakashi’s smile turned crooked, playful. Knowing.  
“Be patient,” Yamato breathed, leaning forward slowly and waiting lengthily with a smirk, their lips an inch apart.  
He knew Kakashi hated waiting.  
Kakashi didn’t even speak a smartass comment before grasping the back of Yamato’s neck and joining their mouths together roughly. Kakashi was so glad Yamato was safe. Yamato felt so lucky that Kakashi survived, dragging his useless ass back home. That he didn’t abandon him. Thankful that the other was alive, hearts pulsing in their chests hard, full of untold appreciation. It was okay, though. They both knew, without words.  
Eventually, Yamato broke the kiss, gasping down some unwanted air. Kakashi sighed heavily, leaning back on his palms.  
“I suppose we have to do stuff now.”  
“Yeah,” Yamato grinned back, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by the breathless kissing.  
He heaved himself to his feet, stretching and hearing his tired, overextended back crack. “You’ll have to fill me in on everything that happened, Kakashi.”  
Kakashi started to also clamber to his feet.  
“I w-“  
Kakashi’s reply was sliced off harshly by his clumsy collapse, breathing suddenly laboured and heavy, as if in agony.  
“Kakashi?!”  
Yamato’s eye widened, kneeling down beside Kakashi, propped up on his elbows but his expression was one of acute pain, eyebrows wedged together tightly. Gripping his shoulder tightly, Yamato’s eyes trailed down to Kakashi’s hands, clutching his shin haplessly. Yamato’s grasp increased.  
“Kakashi, what happened when I was out?”  
“I just…” Kakashi gritted his teeth together, breathing evening out again. “I may have hurt my leg a little bit.”  
“If you can’t walk, that isn’t a ‘little bit’!” Yamato shot back, his lips pushed against each other forcefully, trying not to let his worry show. He straightened up, examining Kakashi’s bent leg and wishing he knew more about medical things. “Stay here. I’m going to get some stuff.”  
“I’m fine, the pain’s easing already-“ Kakashi tried to move his leg and winced, his expression one of masked agony.  
“Don’t move,” Yamato told him sternly as he raced into the kitchen, grabbing a broom and some duct tape. Not the best, but it’ll have to do.  
Of course, in the few short minutes he’d taken to gather the supplies, Kakashi had dragged himself up to rest against the wall, gazing vacantly up at the ceiling, at nothingness, as if trying to detach from the pain.  
“Why do you never do what I tell you to?” Yamato muttered as he knelt down beside him, snapping the broomstick in half, over his thigh.  
“You’re so strong….” Kakashi commented airily back, completely ignoring Yamato’s grumbling, as Yamato struggled in vain to pop off the head of the broomstick.  
“You’re injured. Stop talking,” Yamato replied with a grunt, finally managing to kick off the brush part.  
He placed the sticks on either side of Kakashi’s knee, grimacing. He only vaguely recalled something about a makeshift split from T.V. shows etc., and had no idea of this was actually going to help. Immobilisation was good, right?  
“Stop worrying.”  
Kakashi’s stern voice shook him out of his mind, and he relaxed his features, realising he was frowning tensely. Kakashi smiled at him gently, reaching forward and shoving playfully at Yamato’s shoulder.  
“It’s not like you can fuck it up any more. Go for it.”  
“You’re so encouraging,” Yamato deadpanned back, but his doubt is gone, replaced with a sense of purpose.  
Then he also discovered that he forgot to bring a scissors to cut the duct tape with.  
“Dammit….! Kakashi, don’t you dare move an inch when I’m gone.”  
“I thought you’d trust me more than this,” Kakashi answered, a fake hurt tone lacing his voice.  
“Just don’t move,” Yamato tossed back over his shoulder as he swept into the kitchen, gaze scanning around for the scissors-or knife-or basically anything sharp that could slice tape. He found a parcel opener in a drawer, reckoned it was good enough, and returned to Kakashi.  
Kakashi was sitting on the couch, swinging his non-dying leg off the side casually. Yamato had no idea how he dragged himself up there so quickly or even how he managed to do it.  
Yamato closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, then ignored it and headed over to him. “Stay still, okay?”  
“I always stay still,” Kakashi replied innocently.  
Yamato wound the tape around the sticks on either side of Kakashi’s shin, after checking for any inflammation. His shin definitely was swelling up, so Yamato decided not to wrap the bandages too tight.  
“There,” he murmured, resting back on his calves. “That should help, with any luck.”  
“Yeah, because we have such great luck,” Kakashi muttered, raising his leg with a wince, examining the splint.  
“Fine, then trust in my expert nursing skills,” Yamato joked.  
Kakashi looked at him dubiously, but then the corners of his mouth start to turn up, and soon he was laughing, amused at the mere suggestion.  
“Hey, you don’t have to laugh that hard,” Yamato huffed, but he was smiling.  
Kakashi simply smirked at Yamato.  
“Come on, we should get to bed," Yamato said.  
“To do what?” Kakashi grinned suggestively, nudging at Yamato’s arm with his bandaged hand.  
“To rest,” Yamato replied firmly, rolling his eyes. “You have an injured leg, if you hadn’t noticed.”  
“So?”  
“Oh my god,” Yamato muttered, shifting nearer to Kakashi and looping an arm around his torso. “The sofa’s too small for us to squash together, so I’m moving you.”  
With that, Yamato cautiously placed his other arm, slung underneath Kakashi’s knees, and lifted him up to his chest with a grunt. Kakashi made an impressed noise.  
“Strong, Tenzou.”  
Kakashi wrapped his arms around Yamato’s neck and buried his nose in his neck, sensing Yamato’s scent, his warmth, his strength, his caring personality burning just underneath the surface, and a relentless sickness, coiled up deep within him like a malicious bear waking from hibernation. A weakness, a hidden shakiness in his breathing, a slight stuttering of his lungs that shouldn’t be there.  
Kakashi clung on tighter to Yamato’s neck.  
“Something wrong?” Yamato asked softly, moving carefully out of the sitting room into the hall.  
Everything, Kakashi wanted to say. Yamato was ill with a mysterious ailment, he himself could barely walk,…how were they going to manage? Kakashi sure as hell wasn’t letting Yamato go out there by himself.  
“Nothing. Tired,” Kakashi mumbled back after a lengthy pause.  
“Get some sleep, then you’ll feel better,” Yamato said gently, easing Kakashi onto the bed.  
He wished it was that easy, and he was pretty certain he knew exactly why it had taken Kakashi so long to answer.  
But as long as we’re alive, Yamato reasoned, we’ll find a way.  
Somehow.  
\---  
"No. You rest."  
"Have you forgotten the fact that you're sick?" Kakashi protested, sitting upright with a grunt. "You need to rest too, Tenzou."  
"You are not damaging your leg further, and that's that."  
Yamato headed over to the sofa and firmly shoved Kakashi down into the pillow again, shaking his head.  
"Meh. " Kakashi stuck out his tongue stubbornly. "At least give me a kiss before you go."  
"I'm only going to the next room over."  
"Still going somewhere."  
"That's ...not a good reason."  
"Just fucking kiss me."  
Yamato started to sigh, but barely got a wisp of breath out of his lungs before Kakashi grabbed his shirt and yanked him downwards, pushing their lips together. And there went the rest of Yamato's breath. Kakashi released him after a moment, but it was more than a few seconds before Yamato straightened up, lips flared red.  
"You ready to let me get you a glass of water now?"  
Kakashi grinned up at him.  
"Just about."  
As soon as Yamato vanished into the kitchen, Kakashi's smile faded slowly, rubbing his palms up over his face heavily. Yamato seemed normal now, but Kakashi couldn't force the image of him, unconscious, lying face down in the dirt out of his mind. He never wanted that to happen again, hence his reluctance to let Yamato out of his sight for an instant.  
And he could barely walk, which was a little bit of a problem.  
"Fuck you," Kakashi hissed to his aching shin.  
Meanwhile, Yamato was humming, reaching for the handle of the cupboard. He was worried, too. Neither of them were doctors, or even anything close. He didn't have a clue what was wrong with Kakashi's leg, if it was broken, fractured, a strained muscle, twisted...hell, he didn't even know everything that could go wrong with a leg.  
As for himself...he didn't want to think about it.  
Hopefully it was a one-off thing. Maybe just because he hadn't been eating much, his body couldn't handle it any more after walking a lot. After all, he only fainted once. Maybe he was simply dehydrated. That would explain the spells of dizziness too.  
Maybe.  
Sighing, Yamato took a glass cup down from the shelf, his thoughts turning to how lucky they were that the pump in this house, running off the generator, still worked. Lucky that there was a well out the back, too. Yamato nodded softly, approving of Kakashi's choice of base. He was lucky he ran into him.  
If luck exists.  
Moving over to the sink, Yamato held the glass out under the tap, letting it run for a short while to get it cold. He filled it up carefully, then turned off the tap again.  
Then it smashed into him.  
Yamato's legs buckled as he staggered backwards, losing his grip on the glass, shattering against the cold floor. Reeling, Yamato tried to get a grasp of himself, but his head's spinning, the world whirling around him in blurry splotches, and his breathing was so loud reverberating in his ears, so loud, that it was almost a relief when he crumpled to the floor amongst broken glass, spills of water.  
Crash.  
Kakashi's eye snapped open, hearing the destruction of clear glass in the kitchen. Panic almost overtook him, but he shoved it back, struggling to clamber out of the mess of blankets. His breathing felt short and quick, the heavy thump following the smash sticking to the forefront of his mind.  
Tenzou, Tenzou, Tenzou, echoed constantly in his mind.  
His leg screamed at him as he desperately hobbled forward, clutching at any surface to propel himself onwards. He couldn't see through the doorway yet, but one step, another step, four, now he could see clearly, see the sprawled body, see the crinkles of glass, the glow of water, the crimson oozing out from-  
Kakashi's chest almost stopped.  
"Tenzou, can you hear me?"  
Kakashi scrambled forward frantically, catching hold of the doorway only briefly before toppling onto the ground. He crawled forward quickly, the pain completely strangled with acute, suffocating worry for his lover. Glass bit into his knees and palms deeply, shocks of pain racing through his nerves, but he didn't care. Reaching Yamato's side, Kakashi shook his shoulder, his own hands trembling violently.  
No response.  
Kakashi lowered his ear to Yamato's mouth, checking, praying, as his world collapses around him.  
It started to rebuild as soon as Kakashi felt the whisper of breath on his ear.  
He's breathing, okay, he's breathing, he's okay, calm down.  
Kakashi's palms were sticky and thick with blood as he sat back, gaze running over Yamato's body. Red was spilling out, drenching through his clothing, underneath Yamato's arm. Kakashi scrabbled over to his other side, shocks of agony pulsating from his knees, his shin, his hands-but none of that mattered.  
Yamato was hurt.  
Kakashi used a piece of glass to strip away his shirt, exposing his lower forearm. Skin was unbroken on this side, but then Kakashi's memory kicks in. Crash, then thump.  
Yamato fell onto the shattered glass.  
Cursing lowly, in a hoarse, raspy voice that really didn't sound like his, Kakashi carefully lifted up Yamato's arm, crossing it over his body to see the underneath. Sure enough, glass was embedded deeply all along his arm, blood gently flowing from the edges.  
"Shit, shit-"  
Kakashi knew these wounds weren't life-threatening, far from it, but that knowledge didn't stop bile of worry welling up in his throat. He stumbled to his feet unsteadily, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of pain, and groped around in the drawer where they held the first aid supplies. After a few seconds of bracing himself against the worktop with one hand and shifting through the drawer with the other, Kakashi finally found a bandage and a padding thingy that looked like it'd be useful.  
He knelt down awkwardly again, recalling that you weren't supposed to pull objects from a wound in case they were leaning on an artery, but that was when ambulances were around. Kakashi was just going to have to stem the bleeding the best he could. Taking a deep breath, Kakashi readied the supplies and himself, raising Yamato's arm to above his heart level. That was supposed to help, right? The first piece of glass was stuck just above Yamato's wrist, which worried Kakashi immensely. His hands were shaky, but he managed to gently pull it out, and instantly a crimson spurt splattered all over the front of his clothes.  
"Fuck!"  
Kakashi grabbed the pad and covered the opening with it quickly, applying hard pressure. It started to turn red as Kakashi wound the bandage tightly around it, eyebrows knotting together with concentration. He split the end and tied it off deftly, concerned fingers skimming over the rapidly staining bandage. Well, that was why those paramedic people told me not to yank it out, Kakashi realised with a hazy breath, remembering. He shook his head, reaching for the second roll of bandage and another piece of padding. Quickly, he put another bandage on the same area, and, this time, it didn't soak through. Kakashi breathed a sigh of relief, turning his attention to the rest of the glass dotted up Yamato's arm.  
Taking a moment to survey his surroundings, Kakashi reckoned that, after the glass had fallen, Yamato must've stumbled a few steps backwards, luckily putting most of his body clear of the scattered glass. Kakashi cautiously rolled Yamato over onto his side, examining his back. There were a few little spots of blood from some stray fragments, but Yamato's arm had taken the most damage. Kakashi wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or concerned, so he focused back on Yamato's arm. He needed to tend to his injuries as quickly as possible, after all.  
It took the best part of an hour for Kakashi to bandage Yamato up to his satisfaction, cleaning away all the glass around him. He'd heard that unconscious people could choke on their limp tongue if on their back, so he'd kept Yamato over on his side, bandaged arm raised up to underneath his chin. Every so often, he'd check to see if he was still breathing, but everything seemed to be okay for now. Yamato just had to wake up again.  
Once everything was done, Kakashi shuffled over to face Yamato, lying beside him on the floor. His palms stung badly, as did his knees, but he'd take care of that later.  
Lifting up Yamato's eyelids, Kakashi examined his eyes, as dark as black coffee. They were one of the things Kakashi adored most about him, but right now, they scared him. The slight flecks of mossy green were bitterly tainted, his irises dulled like algae-engulfed pond, murky and seemingly bottomless. Unlike the usual lively, shining forest Kakashi was used to gazing into, his eyes were dead obsidian stones drifting in sickly white.  
"Tenzou..." Kakashi whispered helplessly.  
He felt like his lungs were gradually being flooded with mucky, stagnant water staring at Yamato's eyes, so he closed his eye, willing the drowning, suffocating sensation of worry to go away.  
Tenzou will be fine, he tried to reassure himself.  
"You'll get better, won't you?" Kakashi mumbled quietly, his hand skirting down Yamato's side to his hand, intertwining their fingers. He opened his eye, leaning his forehead against Yamato's, gaze tracing all down his face, from the thick, black eyelashes to his beautifully structured lips. He was handsome, in the understated, non-flashy way, sure, but Kakashi had seen plenty of hot people, and they weren't Yamato.  
"I'll hate you forever if you die on me," Kakashi mutters, finding himself rambling to fill the silence. "I don't know what I'd do if you were gone. And it sounds so sappy, but I finally understand all those big long romantic ass love declarations in movies. It's the way I feel about you, although I could never be so...upfront about them, I guess. That takes courage, and I'm a fucking coward."  
Here Kakashi paused, breathing out deeply, bathing in the bitter memories.  
"I want to be there for you, Tenzou. It's sort of scary but I can imagine us staying together after all this, us figuring out where to live, arguing over which home to buy. I can picture all the flowers you'd have planted in the garden, the undoubtedly massive garden. I want to paint our fence white and groan and complain about it, just to see your encouraging smile."  
Yamato's eyelashes flickered, and Kakashi hesitated, heart thudding. He didn't dare move, in case he jinxed this somehow. Yamato shifted around slightly, his lips moving and forming indistinguishable words, but he settled down again, apparently content with his place. Kakashi smiled, slipping an arm around Yamato's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.  
"I think that's enough soppy shit for now, Tenzou. Feel free to return the favour anytime."  
Kakashi tilted his face into a sleeping Yamato's neck, imprinting his tingling scent on his memory.  
"I'm tired too, Tenzou. I think I'll join you here. My goddamn leg won't let me move anywhere else."  
With that, Kakashi fell silent, the comforting warmth of Yamato's body, his breath, his scent-all of that, lulling Kakashi to sleep . Despite the throbbing in his leg, there's an odd sensation in his chest. It takes him a drifting moment to identify it, light and hopeful. It's peace.  
\--  
Yamato woke up abruptly, a sudden sense of urgency prompting him to jolt in place, eyes snapping open. Stirred out of his sleep, Kakashi started to shift around beside him, mumbling something blearily about ukuleles and German Shepherds. Yamato, once he was fully aware of his surroundings, relaxed back against Kakashi's body, huddling closer.  
"Kakashi," he whispered.  
"Mm?"  
"Why are we on the floor?"  
"You fainted on glass..." Kakashi mumbled, sleepily pushing his nose against the side of Yamato's cheek. "It was scary."  
Frustrated, Yamato began bopping the back of his head against the floor. He'd done it again.  
"Don't do that," Kakashi yawned, sitting up tiredly. "There's still some pieces of glass around. It's lucky that you managed to stagger clear of most of it."  
"Most of it?"  
Yamato's eyes blinked, warily sitting upright and taking a good look around. Near the sink, there was almost transparent chunks of glass wallowing in a puddle of water, but both were evidently cleaned away anywhere close to Yamato. Kakashi must've done that. Turning to Kakashi, Yamato started, taking in the profuse amount of dried blood draining down his clothes. It wasn't as if it was an uncommon sight, but it looked like human blood, and smelt like it too.  
"Kakashi!"  
"What?" Kakashi groaned back, apparently unaware of Yamato's horrified gaze. "I told you what happened."  
"Why are you drenched in blood?"  
Kakashi immediately sobered his expression, glancing down at his ruined clothes.  
"Oh, yeah, that. You kind of cut your arm when you landed."  
Yamato raised his arms, and, sure enough, his right one sent a heavy bolt of soreness up his body as soon as he moved it. His shredded remains of a sleeve was hanging down around quite a number of bandages, the thickest layer around his wrist.  
"So it's not your blood then."  
Yamato's tone was one of relief.  
"Hey, how about a thank you?" Kakashi grumbled, nudging Yamato's shoulder with his own. "I saved your life again. I deserve a reward."  
"You might be right," Yamato answered, but his expression is far away, distantly thinking.  
It happened again, and so soon too. Barely a day after the first time. Yamato recalled feeling the same way as he did, too. The world suddenly became confusing, his mind blurry, and then nothing. Heaving out a sigh, Yamato gripped his hair in his hands, lowering his head in despair.  
There was something wrong with him.  
"Hey."  
Kakashi's gentle voice broke into his grieving, his finger slipping underneath Yamato's chin to tilt his face upwards.  
"Look at me."  
Yamato was reluctant, but he met Kakashi's steady gaze shakily, his hands trembling.  
"We're going to survive this."  
Yamato felt like crying, protesting, yelling out in gulped sobs that he was sick, he wasn't fine, he was going to endanger them both. That he was never going to be okay if he couldn't be with Kakashi.  
"Say it. I don't know what stupid things are going through your mind right now, but they're wrong. We're going to survive this. Say it, Tenzou."  
Kakashi's words were so soft and caring Yamato felt tears prickling at the corners of his dark eyes. He loved this man more than anything, and surely that counted for something.  
"We're going to survive this," he repeated.  
Kakashi nodded firmly, convinced of those words. His fingers, dried blood pasted over them, rounded the sides of Yamato's face, cupping it tenderly as he raised his lips, placing a chaste kiss on Yamato's forehead.  
"Never forget that, okay?"  
"Since when were you so sensitive?" Yamato joked weakly, but he was smiling, so thankful for Kakashi. He always knew how to snap him out of his worry.  
"I'm always sensitive," Kakashi shoots back, returning the smile and touching his nose to Yamato's gently. "You just don't notice."  
Kakashi began to lean further forward, tilting his head with the intent to press his mouth on Yamato's. Then Yamato flung a palm over Kakashi's mouth and shoved him away, rotating away as an awful, racking noise fills the air.  
It seemed to take an eternity to recede, Yamato's body shaking and rocking in Kakashi's arms, fragile and ill.  
"We can't kiss anymore," Yamato said softly. "We can't risk you getting sick too."  
"Tenzou, I don't care-"  
"I do."  
The finality of the two words hung in the air. It was moments before Kakashi replied, sharp and determined.  
"You're sick, but I'm going to find out what it is. I'm going to find a fucking cure, and if I can't, I deserve to suffer with you."  
Kakashi upturned his hands in frustration, glaring stubbornly at Yamato, whose gaze fixated on his palms, eyes widening.  
"Kakashi!"  
"What now?"  
Yamato grabbed Kakashi's hands, carefully turning them over, taking in the small wounds dotted all over them, glass embedded deeply in every one, as if pressure was applied to them. Blood was smeared thinly over his pale palms, striking and drying into the creases of his skin. Lifting his gaze to Kakashi's, Yamato frowned, eyebrows drawing together.  
"Why is glass stuck in your palms and why was nothing done to treat them?"  
"I forgot about them," Kakashi shrugged.  
An intense swell of irritation rose up in Yamato, and he gripped the sides of Kakashi's hands tighter, trying to contain his anger.  
"It's nothing anyway," Kakashi added hastily, sensing Yamato's hostile silence.  
"It's not nothing!" Yamato snapped, jabbing a finger at Kakashi's chest. "You need to look after yourself! I can't stand the way you disregard your own wellbeing for mine."  
"But I'm-"  
"Don't try to protest," Yamato spat out. "I know your past, I know you think you're worthless but to me you're the most valuable person in the entire world and you must take care of yourself!"  
Yamato was panting, all the anger draining from his eyes to reveal the true, masked emotions-worry and pained concern. Kakashi was taken aback, his throbbing hands still grasped firmly by Yamato. He didn't know what to say. Luckily, Yamato filled the silence.  
"We need to get your hands cleaned up," he said firmly, then scans Kakashi all the way down. "And your knees."  
"Okay," Kakashi said meekly, feeling his heart glow. Yamato cared about him too much.  
A bit later, by courtesy of Yamato's nursing skills, Kakashi's hands and knees were glass-free and bandaged up firmly. Yamato knelt in front of him, examining his handiwork with fierce concentration.  
"How does it feel?"  
"A lot better," Kakashi replied honestly, glancing away. "Keep this up and you'll be an expert in no time."  
"If you keep this up I'll be an undertaker," Yamato answered, straightening up again and clasping Kakashi close. "So stop masking over your injuries."  
Kakashi closed his eye, Yamato's words hitting home, and leaned into Yamato's comfort. Having someone take care of him, tend to his wounds, and actually care about him is something Kakashi's still completely unused to.  
"Thank you," he managed to choke out through the manly tears shutting off his throat.  
"I never got you your water," Yamato murmured, his hand stroking down the back of Kakashi's neck briefly before pulling away. Standing up, he stretched over to the shelf, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before crouching back down and handing it to Kakashi. "Here."  
Kakashi took it with a silent nod of gratitude, not trusting himself to speak properly. His mask was still hanging around his neck-he barely bothered to pull it up anymore when around Yamato-as he gulped it down, feeling the knot in his throat lessen somewhat.  
"What are we doing today?" He asked emptily, more to switch subject than anything else.  
"You're resting," Yamato immediately answered. "And I'll count our supplies, check up on our walker barriers, stuff like that."  
"You need to rest too."  
Yamato glanced away.  
"Kakashi, the sickness I have...I don't think it can be fixed by bedrest."  
"You don't know that," Kakashi cut in sharply. "It could-"  
"I do, and your leg takes priority, okay? I can move around, but you need to heal, you need to be able to walk."  
"Fuck your logic," Kakashi grumbled, reaching out for Yamato's hand and gripping it tightly. "I want you resting with me as much as possible, okay?"  
"Okay," Yamato smiled, entangling their fingers gently. "But for now, I'm going to rustle up something for us to eat. A proper meal. I think we deserve that much, don't you?"  
Kakashi agreed.  
It turned out that Yamato ran out of energy just after the meal, so he subjected himself to sleepily snuggling with Kakashi in the evening with a happily full stomach. It was too hot with the two of them fully clothed, so they stripped off their shirts, both enjoying the rare skin-on-skin contact.  
"Mm, do you really believe that we'll survive this together?"  
Yamato's voice was low, uncertain. Kakashi pressed his lips to his forehead and spoke surely, without a doubt.  
"I do."  
\----  
"Hey, Tenzou, wake up already."  
Yamato groaned lengthily, nestling further into the comforting warmth of Kakashi's bare chest, his head lying on Kakashi's outstretched arm.  
"Tenzou, come on, aren't you supposed to be the early riser here or something?"  
Yamato shook his head, arms stubbornly wound around Kakashi's torso. Sighing, Kakashi nuzzled the side of Yamato's neck gently and tried again.  
"My arm's going numb. Get off of me."  
Yamato raised his head and gave Kakashi a sleepy, half-formed grin, his hand teasingly sliding up to Kakashi’s shoulder.  
"Do you really want to get up?"  
Kakashi's breathing stuttered at the relaxed, carefree smile, and for a moment it was like his shin wasn't split in two, like Yamato had never fainted. Like the bandages looping all the way up his bare arm was because of a simple accident, with no further worries or consequences.  
Kakashi huffed in response, lifting his hand to stroke across Yamato's cheek tenderly, gaze soft.  
"That's a no," Yamato murmured with a light chuckle, amused.  
A flood of warmth rushed Kakashi's chest, and he found himself leaning forward, gaze falling softly to Yamato's sallow lips.  
"I love you," he whispered, barely more than a breath.  
But Yamato heard it.  
Inhaling sharply, Yamato held his breath in anticipation, bending towards Kakashi too, trying not to smile too widely.  
"I know."  
All risk of infection slipped from Yamato's mind, and Kakashi simply didn't care.  
He wanted to kiss Yamato, and that was that.  
Then the door, positioned opposite and to the right of the bed, beside the wardrobe, opened.  
"Fucking fags."  
Both of their gazes snapped over to the bedroom door, bolting upright in the bed. Three men, and Kakashi's gaze seized onto the muzzles pointed straight at them. He pressed himself in front of Yamato, heart hammering. How the hell did they get into the house without them noticing?  
Anywhere, Kakashi realised. They hadn't checked the house in days to make sure it was still secure.  
"Oh, look. Aren't they cute?"  
"What do you want?"  
Yamato's voice was impressively steady and calm. Kakashi didn't think he could've managed that.  
The man in the centre spat maliciously on the floor, wielding a shotgun which made Yamato's palms break out in total sweat.  
"Your food, your supplies, everything useful."  
Kakashi's heart was in his throat, thumping away uncontrollably. It was one of the situations he'd prayed that would never happen. Pinned down, trapped. With Yamato at risk.  
"Grab them."  
The order came from the man in the middle. The voice was steel-cold and mocking, dancing with sick enjoyment.  
The two on either side started moving towards them. Kakashi's eye flicked cautiously to his machete, nestled just beside the left beside cabinet. If he was on his own, he would've lunged for it without hesitation, despite the trio of guns aimed at him.  
But Yamato was here too.  
Kakashi was grabbed roughly by his right arm and he growled, rotating sideways to instinctively wrench himself away.  
"Do you really want to resist?"  
Kakashi turned his head to snap back at the speaker, and his defiant gaze crumbled away. Yamato was looking at him with barely concealed terror in his dark eyes, likely because of the cool metal muzzle shoved up against the underside of his jaw. The man leered forward, clutching Yamato's hair forcefully and yanking his head backwards, exposing his beautifully structured, vulnerable throat with fading marks dotted on his skin.  
"If you want to see what his pretty neck looks like without a head, keep resisting."  
Kakashi met his glinting eyes, and panic seized up his whole body.  
His grin said to do it. Resist. Give me an excuse. I'd love to indulge the itch in my finger and splatter your face with your lover's rotten blood, you fucking homo.  
Kakashi froze, horrified at what he saw.  
Yamato was trying to count his breathing, steady himself, calm himself down so he could figure the situation out. He tried to catch Kakashi's gaze, but it was like he'd become numb, not reacting even when his capturer pushed the pistol muzzle against his back.  
"Now, I think we're all in a position to negotiate." The leader clapped his hands together cheerfully. "Want to go first? No? Okay, so you tell us where your main hideout is, you lead us to it, and we all become the bestest of friends with pink glittery rainbows for you gays."  
Yamato found his voice first.  
"No."  
That one determined word made Kakashi able to breathe again, despite the threatening steel pressed in between his shoulder blades. They were still alive. The situation wasn't lost yet.  
"I second that," Kakashi declared stubbornly.  
He met Yamato's gaze, and he could've sworn there was a tiny smile on his face, one that engulfed him in warm courage.  
"My my, aren't they just the sweetest, agreeing with each other so easily."  
Yamato swallowed hard.  
"Bring them here."  
Kakashi and Yamato were forced to scramble out of the bed and marched to the leader, spikes of pain shooting up a limping Kakashi's leg. The guns never faltered for an instant.  
"We've watched you two. We know you aren't new here, yet you only use this house for emergencies. You must have a main base, do you not? And I bet you have a nice ol' stockpile stored up there. We need it."  
He was so close Kakashi could see his cracked, yellowing teeth all-too-clearly.  
"Fuck you," Kakashi spat out, and a heavy blow to the back of his neck spilled him to his knees.  
The leader slammed a kick into his stomach, and Kakashi crumpled over, gasping raggedly as agony flared out from his torso.  
"Stop. We'll give you everything we have."  
Kakashi was so winded he couldn't speak, but he glanced up at Yamato, expression fierce and unyielding. He saw the exact same fire inside Yamato. He could sense the surge of anger radiating from Yamato, but the gun was still held up to his neck. He couldn't move, and if he spoke, the metal dug into his skin deeper.  
"Tenzou, what-" Kakashi managed to unsteadily gulp out.  
"SILENCE!"  
A bellow, and Kakashi lurched forward again, bent double trying desperately not to retch everywhere with just the view of filthy boots of an asshole.  
Yamato tried to negotiate.  
"We'll give you everything here. There's a lot of-"  
"Not good enough."  
"How about-"  
Yamato began coughing, a harsh racking, shoulders bent and shuddering. Both of his hands frantically flew up to his mouth, as if trying to hold it in, to not show weakness.  
To Kakashi's ears, his cough sounded like hell, getting worse the more you walked through it.  
The man behind him even stepped away, a sly smirk on his face. And when Yamato's coughing ceased, when he finally lifted his defeated gaze from the dirtied floor, there was crimson splattered on his palms.  
His grin widened.  
"Oh man, he's a goner."  
"Shut the fuck up," Kakashi snapped viciously. "You don't know-"  
"Oh, I do. I've seen it many times. Let me guess, he's had spells of dizziness, maybe fainted once or twice too."  
Yamato's eyes went flat.  
"Motherfucker," Kakashi hissed, feeling the back of his neck prickle with rage.  
He raised his gaze to the leader's waist, and noticed a glint. These fuckers were never going to let them go, he knew. Yamato's cautious diplomacy wouldn't work here.  
All or nothing.  
Kakashi lunged swiftly, paying no heed to his screeching shin as he successfully grasped the knife hanging off the leader's belt. Spinning around to the back of the leader, Kakashi wound an arm tightly around his throat, blade sinking inwards to the side of his throat. The two dogs lowered their guns, uncertain. They must've seen the resolve in Kakashi's furious gaze. Yamato would be safe, even if he had to murder everyone else.  
"Let him go," Kakashi gritted out viciously.  
One released Yamato, who staggered and stumbled, swaying shakily and almost crumpling to his knees. He braced himself against the bottom of the bed, trying to blink away the dizziness desperately. Not now, for fuck's sake! He couldn't pass out now, that simply couldn't happen!  
A sharp chuckle from the leader.  
"Definitely a go-"  
"I said shut up," Kakashi growled, digging the knife in a little more.  
A drizzle of blood ran down the side of his neck, but he didn't seem too concerned.  
"You're going to leave," Kakashi dictated. "Leave and never bother us again, or-"  
Laughter. Fucking laughter, from the man at knifepoint. The other two joined him.  
"I think differently."  
Kakashi's arm was wrenched downwards, the knife ripped from his fingers, and in an instant Kakashi was flung over the leader's back, crashing onto the floor heavily in front of him.  
"Ka-" Yamato managed to frantically get out before he was trapped again, his breathing stifled and unsteady. He blinked away furious tears of anger, directed entirely at himself. He was fucking useless.  
Dazed, Kakashi desperately attempted to clear away the spots blurring up his vision, shocks of pain shooting up his leg. He groaned, pressing a hand to his throbbing forehead.  
"Get up, fag."  
Kakashi's gaze cleared just enough to see the two round barrels of a shotgun, not four inches away from his face. He stood up, trembling all over with the pain.  
"Man, you look just as pathetic as you really are."  
Yamato somehow managed to gather himself enough to work up saliva to spit, landing right on the leader's chin. The muzzle pressed in deeper to his skin, creating a hollow on the underside of his jaw as the leader calmly wiped it away disdainfully.  
Then two more heads popped into the room, wielding more weapons and bulging backpacks, supposedly full of everything useful.  
"Got everything from this dump, boss."  
"Wasn't much at all there. Barely worth our time."  
"Good. Go outside and wait for us to finish up here."  
They left without a second glance of pity.  
"The sun's going down," Kakashi's guard piped up. "What are we going to do?"  
A grin.  
"We only need one to tell us where the good shit is, don't we?"  
There was a heartbeat where both Kakashi and Yamato were overtaken with dread.  
"Take this one. The other isn't going to last long either way."  
All the breath seemed to have been punched out of Kakashi's lungs, and he gasped, spinning around to grab Yamato-knock the gun away, anything, anything at all to save him-when he was jerked backwards, hard. He lashed out at the leader, gaze fixated on Yamato, mind fixated on getting to him, protecting him.  
"Do it."  
The order was firm and cold.  
"Let me fUCKING GO!" Kakashi yelled, struggling wildly.  
Yamato tried to break free, but he was still weak, and he was held firm, fear flashing in his dark eyes. Before Kakashi could rip himself away, the pistol handle smacked down hard on the back of Yamato's skull. Kakashi cried out as Yamato folded to the ground, sticky, dark red leaking out between the strands of his brown hair.  
Kakashi couldn't move his legs. He was shuddering all over, but it was like he was trapped in transparent amber, frozen stiff and helpless.  
"Alright, bring him outside. And get the petrol, would you?"  
"Tenzou..." Kakashi whimpered brokenly, barely aware of a tug on his arm, forcing him to retreat backwards.  
"Tenzou!"  
Kakashi suddenly lurched forward, and he almost slipped out of their grasp, but their hold clamped down on his arms, his clothing, an arm twisted around his neck-but still he fought, gaze trembling on the slow river of blood leaking out from the side of Yamato's head-  
"Tenzou! TENZOU!"  
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, SHUT UP!"  
Agony tore through Kakashi's side, and he faltered, clutching his right side desperately.  
"Got the can? Good."  
He shot him. The fucker shot him.  
"-yes, yes, everywhere, are you stupid-"  
Kakashi kept thrashing.  
But it wasn't enough. He was dragged through the doorway and lost sight of Yamato, unconscious on the cold floor. His throat was raw, on fire, sending pangs of pain down his neck every time he yelled Yamato's name, salt stinging his cheeks.  
Tenzou, TENZOU!  
His stuttered breathing hung thickly in his ears, his pants loud and overwhelming, desperate but his strength wasn't enough. Outside, the leader tired of Kakashi's wailing and clawing.  
He had served his purpose-entertainment.  
The boss raised his hand grasping the shotgun, and the butt of it smashed down on the back of Kakashi's skull with an audible crack. Crumpling down onto his knees, Kakashi's head was ringing loudly, sparks erupting in front of his eyes, and suddenly there was grass underneath his palms now and he was folding forward, shaking but unable to rip his gaze away from his home in front of him.  
Their home.  
He barely picked up the grating noise of the match flaring up, barely saw the petrol canister being tossed aside.  
He did see feet stepping forward past him to the fallen canister, did see the match falling from cruel fingers.  
Kakashi blacked out the moment the match hit the petrol fumes. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> whOOP WHOOP CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT HOW YAM GETS OUT OF THAT SITUATION  
> or will he


End file.
